C4C3
by Jackie Allen
Summary: "When you can't trust anybody else, trust yourself": A sometimes lighthearted romp through Remnant, where nobody's favourite faunus Adam Taurus is the bearer of the Relic of Choice. Rated M because Adam has a tendency to impale people for reasons that appear morally relative. Some chapters NSFW.
1. If You Like Adam Put a Ring On Him

Chapter 1: If You Like Adam Put a Ring on Him

Adam watched Blake Belladonna flee from the room, her blonde companion slung under her right arm and her eyes briefly piercing through the man who claimed responsibility for Yang's inability to one day reciprocate the act; Yang's severed arm lay on the floor, testament to the strength of Moonslice, his semblance. A rampaging grimm burst into the room but Adam decapitated it in one smooth motion of his red blade, Wilt. A waste of his talents: his forces had been the ones to transport and deploy the monsters into the school so it was somewhat counterproductive to slay the creatures when there were so many humans left for them to prey upon. He could hear their distant screams echoing across the campus grounds. Adam strode across the room to the hallway. Somewhere in the school was the human who had set the entire calamity in motion: Cinder Fall. He did not know what she wanted from the chaos they had started, but she had certainly strong-armed him into letting her bribe his Vale cell of the White Fang into serving as core mechanism of her plans.

Adam sneered, "human filth", as he considered his tenuous ally.

While he was willing to admit the clear efficiency of humans fighting humans for his people's cause, it still irked him to have to work with the likes of Cinder and Roman Torchwick or any of their human flunkies. If he had had any choice in the matter he would have been perfectly content to let the humans slaughter one another without his direct involvement.

His keen faunus senses heard an explosion in the distance, from the central tower of Beacon Academy. The Academy taught humans (and maybe sometimes the occasional Faunus with the right connections and abundance of talent) to become heroic hunstmen (or huntresses) in the ongoing war between civilization and the grimm, with a minor degree in impeding the terrorist tendencies of his White Fang forces. The explosion was probably deserving of his investigation, considering the alternative was fighting the grimm since the local area was presently clear of humans or race-traitors; most were probably evacuated from the area by now.

He made his way to the tower, avoiding the grimm as much as he could, and walked inside. A gaping hole remained where there once was an elevator rising into the high reaches of the building, burnt and charred from his ally's powerful fire-based semblance. Cinder's plan must be in full motion here as she worked to disable the school and reach her mysterious goal. Adam may have had his doubts about her motives but he had witnessed her semblance's capabilities and had sagely decided that his men's lives were not worth testing her abilities against the remnants of his forces that day, when she had approached his Forever Fall camp a second time to coerce him to ally his forces to her cause. He walked over to the elevator and peered down; his quick inspection revealed a trail of fire rising from the depths of the school to the pinnacle of the tower above him. Whatever Cinder had been after, it had been in the bowels revealed before him-but she wasn't there anymore. Something had drawn her up to the headmaster's office. The enormous grimm wyvern circled the tower menacingly, smaller grimm dripping from its body like viscous tar.

Adam took out his scroll, ~Green Eye. This is Wilt. Status confirm sector glass? Over.~

A moment passed before he received the text response from his lieutenant, ~Wilt, this is Green Eye. Sector Glass stable, targets minimized, grimm rampant. Massive alpha grimm at centre of sector, circling tower. Friendlies beginning partial withdrawal operations, reinvesting in sectors Karma and Justice. Sector Vista overrun by grimm, targets evacuated or destroyed. All forces directed there have been reassigned. Over.~ Adam nodded. Beacon seemed to have been subjugated according to plan and his brothers were pulling out to refocus efforts in the city of Vale proper. The hovering Amity Arena had already been removed from the tactical situation. The attack was essentially already over, their objectives all complete. Vale was defeated, the humans routed, the mistreatment of faunus within the walls of the city fortress avenged.

~Wilt going dark in Sector Glass, looking for Cinder. You have full tactical authority until I reestablish contact. Over.~

~Understood. Over and out.~

Adam turned off his scroll and peered down the hole. The metal was blistered along the edges, as if the entire elevator tube had been turned into a crude rifle barrel. Which made the top floor the muzzle. He saw movement there, flashes of light and hunks of metal flying as if tied to strings, muted reports of firearms being discharged. Cinder could be up there fighting one of the local huntresses. She might need his help.

Adam leapt down into the ruined elevator shaft. He was more interested in finding out what his intimidating business partner had been after in the hidden depths of a huntsman academy than ensuring that she stayed alive long enough to continue treating him like a domesticated animal; besides, the further away from that grimm wyvern he was the more likely it was that he would live long enough to reestablish his command over the brotherhood. He stabbed his arm-length red blade into the elevator wall as he neared the bottom, arresting his momentum enough to let him roll out of the shaft's nadir without shattering his knees. At the end of his roll he came up with Wilt and Blush drawn, ready for combat.

The vaulted hallway was empty and dark, lit by the occasional wall sconce. He pressed forward and came to a concourse, but kept moving forward since it just seemed to be the right way to go. The way forward generally _is_ after a brisk sprint down the hallway, he came to an eerie sight: a dead woman in a metal pod labelled 001 with broken glass scattered around it, with tubes leading to a broken pod labelled 002 on the other side of a computer terminal. One of Cinder's arrows stuck in the corpse's chest. Adam grinned. Humans killing humans, a tale as old as time. Adam was alone in the chamber and he hoped that he could discern some motive or deeper meaning to Cinder's plans. Certainly she had not strong-armed him into accepting employment out of a sense of altruism or love of the faunus; as lovely as that thought may be, it was contradicted by her simultaneous employment of the bigot Torchwick. He investigated the empty pod, and determined that the glass had been destroyed from a pressurized force from within. So Cinder had killed the girl in the first pod, and whoever had been in the second pod had forced their way out. Maybe Cinder had been in the second pod? It seemed plausible, but the lack of her semblance's signature cast doubt on the theory: the glass had been broken from the inside, not melted away. The angle on the arrow in the first tube was pretty straight, too, so Cinder would have had to have gotten out of the second tube and strolled into position to get the shot. So a third person had probably been involved here.

Past the dead tube-girl was a larger foyer which seemed to have been the site of a large dust battle; scorch marks covered the walls and ceiling, rubble cluttered the stone floor, and in the middle of the room lay a man with gray hair wearing the remnants of a green outfit. It looked like he had been stabbed through the torso, although the wound had been cauterized. Cinder's handiwork, since Adam recognized that she would have been one of the few people capable of defeating the headmaster of the academy. Perhaps the headmaster had been the one in the second pod? Adam examined the man's weapon, a clockwork cane.

As he looked over the cane, his fingers accidentally found purchase on a hidden button on the shaft, which depressed inwards slightly. The gears on the handle started to whirl and Adam dropped it, leaping back from the device. After a tense moment punctuated by the hollow echo of the weapon hitting the ground resonating through the chamber, Adam lowered his guard and stepped further away from the dead man. He went back to the tube-girl and tried to figure out what had happened deep under the school while his forces above had gleefully unleashed chaos.

Clearly tube-girl and whatever had been in the other pod were supposed to be related somehow. Perhaps the headmaster and tube-girl had been trying to do something with the device to stop the disaster above, or perhaps they had merely been distracted by this when Cinder made her play. Maybe Cinder had known the headmaster would be here, distracted, making it an opportune time to strike? The devices all seemed very technologically advanced, beyond Adam's ken, and came with no instruction manual. Or if there was a manual, it was not here. Probably in some impossibly immaculate laboratory in Atlas. He shrugged. If it was important at all it was not important to him. Whatever had been going on was more than likely moot now, since Cinder's arrow had cleanly pierced the girl's heart and the other tube was vacant, while the school's headmaster was cold on the floor of the adjacent foyer.

After ten minutes of further searching, Adam reached a conclusion: nothing in the room was worth anything to him, his cause, or his understanding of his human ally. He had searched the room for more meaningful clues, for secret exits, for signs. A big book labelled "Cinder's Plans". Nothing. He checked his scroll for the time. His troops above would likely be wondering whether he was coming back. He scowled and made his way back towards the elevator shaft, but stopped when he came again to the concourse. He saw a light at the end of one hallway. That had not been there before, had it? He chided himself for not paying more attention to the side hallways on his first pass by. He made his way down the passage, wary of a trap. Instead, he came to a dead-end inhabited by a lonesome vending machine. Alone, unguarded, completely unnecessary and hidden in the bowels of an exclusive huntsman academy.

Adam was a man of decisive action, quick thinking and confident passion. Despite that, Adam stood there with his mouth agape at the sheer impossibility of it all. Who had chosen to install the feature? Who kept it stocked? What was the point of having a refrigerated beverage dispenser in the side corridor of the school's super-secret dungeon which had been revealed only after the damage caused by Cinder's infernal wrath? Who could possibly have thought that it was a profitable place for a drink dispenser? It screamed of absolute lunacy. Lunacy!

On the other hand, Adam _was _thirsty as _fuck_. All his troops constantly remarked about it when they thought he was out of earshot-but his ears were keener than many of his fellow faunus-and the present did little to contradict their claims. A long day had been spent preparing for the attack, and he had been running himself dry trying to topple humanity's shining edifices glorifying their own vanity. Adam lived so fast he was always running the risk of becoming dehydrated. Who could fault him for getting a quick drink? The idea that someone had trapped a dead-end hallway in one of the most secure places on the planet with a fake vending machine was even more ridiculous than the idea of someone spending time keeping it stocked. He removed a lien from his wallet and examined his refreshment options.

There were four columns of choices labelled 1-4 by five rows labelled A-F, each promoting in-stock beverages with glowing neon buttons. He could not see inside the machine itself, only the button's descriptions of each drink's stylized logo.

The top level, A-1 to A-4, were SDCola brand drinks, with two classics, a diet, and a SDCola Zero. He grimaced. That stuff was made in Atlas, by slave faunus child labour from an energy propellant by-product. He could not stomach the thought of having to drink it again, as it had been forced upon his crew when he was SDC property. His hatred for the company was powerful enough to fight off the lingering pangs of withdrawal from the addictive sugar-dust infused temptress. The Zero variety held a special place of contempt in his heart: he still remembered the day they began pushing the substance on their faunus mining crews as a cheap means of product testing. So many of his friends had lost their sense of taste that week-some of them permanently. Tragedies like those were covered up and not reported by the human media, of course. The humans preferred light-hearted news about celebrity gossip and how great their civilization was, all on the presumption that ignoring a problem will make it better. That sort of attitude might almost be functional against the creatures of grimm, but was so ingrained into the human mindset as to trap them in their own social decay. Human society was paralyzed in its own blindness to its flaws, and SDCola Zero epitomized this fact in Adam's mind.

Adam realized he had been getting sidetracked, and recomposed his thoughts to attend to his recently recognized thirst.

The second row advertised Portsi Brand soda, which was a fair approximation of what a beverage should be but always smelled vaguely of cabbages. Under that row was two sets of Dr. Piper, followed by two sets of People Like Grapes. The former was a insipid root-flavour, while the latter had been proven to contain no grapes or grape-based products long ago. PLG was made by a company called "DeliciOz", though, which had made numerous contributions to education programs and other social improvements for citizens in Menagerie. Even if Adam could never see himself living in the faunus continent, he appreciated anything improving faunus lives. Upon closer inspection of the PLG display, however, Adam noticed that some incompetent had mislabelled the button labels as C-1, C-2, C-4, and C-3 instead of putting them in proper alphanumerical order. Not that it mattered, since the reversed plates stood in front of identical PLG product but the mistake was clearly fixable by anyone with the minimum level of attention to detail.

Under that was two sets of Ol' King Cold and TorchQuick Energy Drinks. The former was unflavoured carbonate, the latter always left Adam feeling empty and wanting something longer lasting. Under that were three sets of Faunta Brand drinks. During the Great War, the Portsi company in Menagerie had been cut off from their supply network and instead of shutting down turned to the use of alternative ingredients-such that they offered Faunta carbonated milk that was sourced from local willing faunus. Faunta Cow, Faunta Goat, and Faunta Bat carbonated milk were all available. That was a straight NOPE. The hallway was just full of dust(the regular kind), so Adam figured that those ones were long-expired. He wasn't in the mood for batman cheese in a can. The fourth item on that line was SDC Lime. Given the choice between the two, he'd gladly become a cheese expert before putting a beverage into his mouth made by tundra people to taste like a fruit they had never seen. Under that was two options of Dead Ginger Ale, a Cranberry Dead Ginger Ale, and a milk branded as "Udder Satisfaction". The trio of death-flag-waving ales made his hair stand on end. Not today, death. Not today. Udder Satisfaction was probably as cheesy as its name.

Adam shook his head. Well, he decided that with all that the best choice was the mystery juice by the faunus-tolerant DeliciOz company. He didn't even care that it did not have any grapes in it; it had the distinction of not being made by enemies of the faunus, being cheese, being awful, or making him consider his own mortality.

He inserted his lien and pressed the button labelled C-4. The machine made a short buzzing sound, but nothing rolled down into the dispenser; the machine's display registered that C4 had been pressed, even though the button should have been C3, and still flashed the number of lien he had inserted. Adam punched the C-3 labelled button. The machine glowed brightly and whirred, gears shifting and clanking inside. Something fell into the dispenser. Adam reached down to retrieve his prize, only to find to his displeasure that instead of his long-anticipated carbonated drink was a small bronze ring, like a miniature crown with three pointed tines arranged clustered together at one side. Seething, he was about to tear the vending machine apart in righteous fury, yet his scroll began to beep. He had been down in the depths of Beacon for an hour, and the alarm had been set to notify him about the scheduled evacuation of his forces from Vale back into the forest of Forever Fall.

Adam stabbed the vending machine for good measure, causing it to make a cacophony of whirring sounds as sparks shot out from the wound.

_Take that, stupid vending machine!_

Adam climbed up the elevator shaft, using his aura-shielded fists to beat handholds into the metal until he was close enough to the top to ninja-parkour the rest of the way. He turned his scroll back on. While it reconnected, he surveyed the area. The tower above him was now encased in the enormous grimm wyvern that had broken out from a nearby mountain (a scene that had been awesome to watch, Adam savoured every moment of terrified screaming from the humans as they saw the monster descend upon their city). To Adam's consternation, the creature seemed to be dead. It certainly was not moving. He cursed Cinder for sharing so little of the plan with him after forcing him to join forces with her for the raid. At least the massive grimm being taken off the field would make his own escape from the school an easier endeavour.

His scroll reconnected, and he received a text as it did so: "Wilt, this is Green Eye. All sectors reporting grimm-only activity. Forces falling back. Cinder seen being carried from sector glass by her agents after the massive grimm turned to stone". Adam gazed up at the petrified creature. Yeah, it did seem to be a statue now. What an odd thing to happen. He continued reading, "casualties within acceptable parameters, being treated en route to rendezvous camp."

Adam wondered if Blake had made it out alive. He wondered how the High Leader and the rest of the faunus would react to news of his victory, to how once more he had demonstrated himself to be the saviour the faunus needed to bring them out from bondage without compromising with their eternal foes. He wondered if this day would herald a new age, one of faunus and the grimm acting in tandem to finally retake the planet from the human usurpers. Would the grimm intervene to impede his vision of enslaving the feeble humans, would Cinder and her unknown faction call for humanity to be eradicated? Despite Cinder's potency, Adam felt no fear about a showdown between their forces over such an outcome. Adam had not known fear since the day he had first donned his signature Grimm Mask, so many years ago when he led his first raid on an SDC dust warehouse with some other disenfranchised faunus employees. Nor had he known defeat. His tactical brilliance and stellar swordsmanship had been why Cinder had used everything she had to convince him to join her side for the Battle of Beacon.

When she had come to him the second time to secure his assistance, she had overplayed her hand. Literally her hand-humans may not have noticed it, but his keen faunus senses had detected the grimm augmentation to her actual limb. Whatever her unknown faction was, it was somehow involved with experimentation or collaboration with the creatures of grimm.

Furthermore, while she had forced him to accept her demands under duress, she had also revealed that she had some unknown capacity: demonstrating abilities that would normally require a semblance or dust, yet bearing evidence of neither. Some of his soldiers had whispered that she had used real magic, although those were subject to ridicule from their brothers. Adam was not so sure. The world of Remnant was full of mysteries, and he was hesitant to deny the possibilities of Cinder's power's source. A vending machine in a dungeon's side corridor. A dragon turned to stone. Was it so far-fetched to suspect Cinder of being another such anomaly? Perhaps her abilities were the result of her fusion with the soulless creatures of grimm. He remembered a tale told to his crew in the dark mines of Mantle, by what they had all assumed was a senile mole faunus driven to a state of madness over the course of a life of brutal servitude and addiction to SDCola.

A tale of true magic, a gift to the faunus race by a goddess, meant to break them of their shackles and chains, meant to bring forth a new age of peace and prosperity.

The other faunus had laughed at the old long-snouted comrade, called him a fool. Adam may not have believed him at the time, but the story had given him hope that faunus could be better off than they were. It wasn't a moment of epiphany for him; he had gradually learned to throw off his own shackles. It had been part of that process, though. A memory from his past that shaped him into the man he was today-a flesh and bone gift to the faunus, destined to break not only their shackles but their corrupt human masters as well.

It was a shame that he had found nothing in the basement of Beacon to answer that question one way or the other. Adam ran on foot towards the cliffs overlooking the Emerald Forest, the bronze ring finding its way onto his left hand's middle finger, under his fine black glove. He would keep it as a trophy of his victory over humanity that day, a secret prize. A memento of his life's crowning achievement to date.

Far below in the depths of Beacon's ruins, a smoking vending machine marquee display read C4C3-BEST-CHOICE-ENJOY as the lights in the sconces began to dim, turning the monumental halls into a tomb for those who had lost their lives beneath the school.


	2. All the Single Losers

AN: Not sure why but formatting changes my triple dashes to singular. I have a bad habit of using them instead of semicolons, which I will have to wean myself from for the next chapter.

* * *

Adam sat uncomfortably in the crook of a tree's branches. The forest reminded him of the Emerald Forest that bordered Vale: lush, verdant and a perfect place to operate unnoticed by the eyes of humans. This was not the Emerald Forest, though. This forest lay outside the city of Mistral, where Adam had been decisively defeated by Blake and the mutinous Menagerie militia she had led there to foil his designs.

Just when it seemed things were finally coming together for him...

~~J~~

Despite his victory at Beacon, the High Leader of the White Fang, Sienna Khan, had immediately and publicly denounced Adam and the Vale Brotherhood for their participation in the conflict. She claimed that destroying the communications network that let the humans coordinate their subjugation of the faunus was a mistake, that human-faunus relations were at an all-time low. As if Adam or any other faunus should care what the humans _thought_ of them! The human species was barely worth keeping alive, but Adam would keep them alive. As slaves. Out of spite for what they had done to his people, not out of any form of charity or love. Sienna refused to support him in Cinder's plan to attack their next target: Haven Academy in the Kingdom of Mistral. Her responses had screamed of acceptance, of weakness, when the White Fang was meant to embody the strength of the faunus. Even Cinder's ally, Hazel Rainart, had failed to sway Khan. She thought that they could not win a straight fight against humanity.

Fortunately, Adam had spent his days waiting for Hazel to arrive in Mistral by solidifying his support base in the city's White Fang ranks. When Hazel came before Khan with Adam, her guards were already loyal to Adam. His message that faunus are superior to humans, that the humans should not simply fear the faunus but serve the faunus was... _well-received_ by the most physically powerful White Fang members who had earned the prestigious position at Sienna's side. They had become disillusioned with the ongoing strategy she called for them to follow: one of hit-and-run tactics, of being concerned about human civilian casualties and the morality of their struggle. Certainly her non-pacifist approach appealed to them more than Ghira's had, but she still worked towards negotiating with humans for social equality using violence as a bargaining tool rather than a true means to their goals being fulfilled. The White Fang was dissatisfied with dialogues that went nowhere after Adam had set the bar for change so high with his success at Beacon. While Sienna had called Adam and the Vale branch villains, her subordinates had seen that Adam was their saviour.

Their struggle was one where no compromise was justifiable. Every moment they held back their strength was another faunus family torn apart. Another child thrown into mines to be worked to death, used for chemical testing, abused and sacrificed as bait for the creatures of grimm. Another victim of humanity.

Sienna may have forgotten the challenges of their early years in the Fang, when Ghira led them from town to town only to be driven away by angry mobs. She may never have understood how terrified a young ox faunus felt when he found himself alone in a cave miles underground teeming with creeper-type grimm, forced to choose between climbing to safety or trying to get his bounty of dust crystals to the surface to fulfill his daily quota so that he could avoid the lash and eat cold gruel that week. Her life had been worse than that of humans, but she had still been treated better than an animal in her Mistral childhood.

Sienna may have never experienced humanity's true nature, but Adam had. It had forced him to become stronger, lest he perish with like so many of his crews.

Her death on his sword had pained him: even arguing against and chastising him, she had been an ally; but both of them had silently known that she would never serve him or his vision of a faunus-ruled Remnant. She became a necessary sacrifice to further the cause of freedom for their people. He used her one last time by blaming her death on the humans, using her as a martyr to bring the remainder of the Mistral faunus to his banner. The moderates who had listened to Sienna were enraged by her death and readily joined his mission of vengeance. For a gleaming moment he had been hailed as the hero the faunus had been waiting for.

The gift from the goddess. Saviour.

He relished his victories, hopeful for the realization of the future he had dreamed of for so long; yet even as he at last controlled the White Fang and had the support of Hazel's mysterious backer, the traitor Blake tirelessly strove to undermine all that he had built. His operatives had reported that Blake had unsurprisingly survived the fall of Beacon Academy and managed to get herself safely to the faunus-owned continent of Menagerie: a land notably devoid of resources or natural defences that the human governments had ceded to the species after the humans had lost too many battles during the war. In Menagerie her father Ghira acted as the elected leadership, banking his impressive diplomatic skills and history as a civil rights leader to maintain the position for nearly a decade without any substantial opposition. A dictator in all but name. Adam would respect the man, but for his ceaseless mewling for peace between species despite all the suffering they had witnessed together while building the White Fang.

As typical of Blake she had made herself a nuisance to his plans as quickly as possible. A combination of Blake's skills, the infuriating incompetence of his loyalists stationed there, and the defection by Ilia, the chameleon faunus infiltrator he had trusted to deal with Blake and her family, to Blake's side had led to the people of Menagerie turning against him, rallying to Ghira's proposal of direct intervention against the plan to destroy Haven. No longer did they view him as a distant hero who did their dirty work, but a savage madman capable of threatening their ideology of subsistence and acceptance.

Adam had been doing what had to be done to get what the faunus deserved. What he deserved. Who were they to take all that he had fought hard to deliver to them, to turn on him when all he needed was for them to allow him to do his duty without their intervention? Was it so hard for people to sit back and let him fix their problems for them?

So, on the eve of what should have been another great milestone triumph for his Fang, Adam's attack on Haven was foiled by the faunus species-traitors from Menagerie. His forces were broken, surrendering like cowards. They had given up almost without a fight, but not him. He had been willing to risk everything for his goal, so he tried to detonate the entire school. He had been willing to finish the job without fear of the consequences.

Maybe it was because his life had taught him a single lesson repeatedly: no matter what he did, the consequence was always pain.

His explosives had been disabled by the infuriating Ilia, his attempt to make a final statement by taking all of them out in a blaze of destructive glory had been reduced to a scene of him being willing to sacrifice his own people that was caught on the Mistral police force's cameras.

That would not be great publicity.

Driven from the school's grounds, dashing into the forest. Blake did not follow him, denying him the opportunity to challenge her one-on-one as his wounded pride demanded. She had always been a coward, throwing to the wind stereotypical notions of oxen as docile herd animals and felines as solitary apex predators. She may not have shown it while surrounded by her Menagerie militia and daddy, but deep down she was still afraid of him. She could not bear to face him without an army at her side.

If there was any good news, it was that Cinder's part in the plan had fallen through just as thoroughly. She had gotten trounced by Blake's huntress team and, from the smell of it, a walking brewery. If Cinder hadn't changed the plan so that she had to fight through Blake's teams to get to her objective in the school (which apparently the faunus headmaster had willingly offered to give her), she and her group could have easily turned the tide of the battle with the faunus militia from Menagerie. Instead, what should have been his backup was tied up in its own fight within the school. Which she had lost.

Her quest for revenge had weakened her, similar to how his attempt to keep his promise to hurt Blake had ruined his good publicity in Menagerie. Cinder had a golden opportunity to achieve her objectives but took on extra risk just so that she could have a shot at one of Blake's friends, who his attaché to Cinder had relayed had been the one who reputedly forced her retreat from Beacon.

"Someone that could defeat Cinder? That's a person worth knowing more about..." Adam whispered to himself.

He would have to rebuild his power base. Refocus himself and prioritize his objectives. To begin, he watched from the crook of the tree as Cinder's two stooges and Hazel moved through the forest. They had been hustling for hours, evading the city's police patrols and military checkpoints with skill approaching Adam's own-impressive, given Hazel's size and the fact that the green-haired one was unconsciously carried by the steel-haired lackey.

So Adam presently glided through the forest. He had stalked Hazel and the others for an entire day into the woods. They seemed to have a destination in mind. Thanks to his faunus hearing, he had sometimes even managed to overhear snippets of their conversations while remaining at a safely hidden distance.

"Emerald is still out cold. She overexerted herself too much, her own semblance nearly did her in. How's that for irony?" The steel-haired Mercury complained. They had not stopped since fleeing Haven. Adam's physiology had kept him from suffering the ill-effects of hunger and sleep deprivation that Cinder's flunky was demonstrating with his tired pace and weary glances.

"Yes, just further evidence the faunus are the superior species", Adam whispered to himself.

He crept slightly closer to the trio, and as a warm summer zephyr stopped rustling the leaves their words made it clearly to his ears.

"It won't be far, now. The ship, which will take us back to the tower, not far." Hazel said, his words interrupted by his irregular attempts to catch his breath. "If you kids have any desire to run, to get out of this, now is the time. I cannot promise that she will be forgiving of our failure here." Hazel was a large man. He spoke slowly, surely, and strongly despite his exhaustion. Of all the humans, Adam liked him the most-even if he did seem to disagree with Adam on some key points. Hazel's strength was in being strong. Not in the strange semblance of Emerald, nor the technology of Mercury's legs, or the mysterious powers and grimm-augmentations relied on by Cinder to intimidate her allies. On top of that, Hazel knew pain in a way that someone who heard his semblance's description would not understand.

"Oh no, I'm not out yet. Cinder may have fucked us up by luring Qrow, Ruby and the rest to the heist, and the White Fang may have screwed the literal pooch regarding the demolition, but I played my part perfectly. As always. She'll see that." Mercury gently laid Emerald on the ground. Night was falling, the two men started preparing a humble campsite. "With what she's promised us for success, and given my lack of alternative options in my wreck of a life, you'll find me following this road to wherever it leads."

Hazel seemed to shrug, then muttered something that was not loud enough for Adam to overhear. Unless he moved closer. He did feel confident in such a move, now that his faunus night-vision was giving him another advantage over the humans. He decided to wait for a while yet, despite the tantalizing hint of their discussion about who they feared not being merciful to them for their failure-if they did not work for Cinder, who did they serve? Cinder herself wore a leash held by someone more powerful still. Hazel had mentioned his master when he had come with Adam to Mistral to address Sienna regarding the proposal to have the White Fang attack Haven. Other than mentioning that they had the cooperation of the headmaster there and vague references to their master's power being great, Adam knew little about them.

The last light faded from the sky, and the humans began sleeping in shifts.

Adam needed time to think about his defeat. The bitter taste of it had been unknown to him for so long, it stung all the more. He was supposed to have been invincible, the chosen deliverer of vengeance. The reputation of the White Fang was ruined. The reputation of Adam Taurus was ruined.

Or was it?

He removed his mask and looked upon it. It had been a symbol of victory, of change. What was it now? He would have to find out. He put the mask back on. It covered the brand.

Blake was still out there. His wayward apprentice, his love, his agony. He had _promised_ to deliver her pain in turn, in time, for her abandonment of both their cause and of him. Now he owed her twice as much.

Adam deliberated over what to do next as he put some distance between himself and Hazel's camp.

"I could find Blake. Make her suffer. Like she deserves. Make her see that she is wrong, that she was wrong to turn her back on me. To turn her back on _us_. She is surrounded by friends and her father's people, though." Adam muttered for himself. Tracking down Blake and getting her when she was weak would be a full-time job, which he had previously thought proper to delegate to his minions. Where were his best followers now? Where were his loyalists? Prison or traitors. Going after Blake seemed like a less-than-constructive use of his time for the time being, but he couldn't trust the job to delegation again.

"Hazel seems to have a plan. Cinder's master might still have use for me, even without my followers. If Mercury thinks that she'll accept him back, then my odds are just as good. They might be able to help me get to Blake. I could convince them that she is a threat to whatever plans they have. She probably _is_ a threat to whatever plans they have." he continued to himself. "But they are all human. It is hard to trust them, no matter what their goals appear to be. No matter what tantalizing promises they make." Were their goals good for the faunus? So far they had only torn down the gilded edifices of human civilization, targeting humanity's greatest defences. Maybe that was good enough for him.

The forest was quiet. He saw the dim glow of Hazel's camp in the distance and saw the shadows of their figures dancing through the trees as they readied themselves to rest. Adam's own eyelids felt like lead. He could probably use some sleep, too. Here he was talking to himself, after all.

"Or I could return to my throne." He could still mobilize the remnants of the Mistral branch of the White Fang to overthrow humanity, bring them to their knees and force them to serve the faunus as nature had intended. Mistral was in a panic, defences probably in shambles, so even the remaining reseve forces of the Fang might be able to hold their own. Especially if Hazel's master saw that they were still a force and provided aid. He had worked so hard to get to that throne, too. "Sacrificed so much. So many. I can't throw that all away, can I?" The thought of Sienna's lifeless eyes came to him. Mocking him. Would he reduce her sacrifice further, by not following the path he had killed her to pursue?

Each option required commitment. To choose one meant to forgo any hope of pursuing the others simultaneously. If he rebuilt his forces, he would have no time to pursue Blake or be involved with human revolutionaries. If he openly joined Hazel's non-faunus group, he could not very well regain, retain and maintain the loyalty of his anti-human followers. If he chose to hunt Blake, that would require complete dedication as well to execute his designs for her to perfection.

Adam tried and failed to sleep in a tree branch, well outside the area of Hazel's dimly lit camp, his weary mind inundated with possibilities that refused to let him find any peace.

~~J~~

The next day, Hazel and company reached a bullhead nicely camouflaged in a dense thicket. A man with a pilot helmet and full black body armour was there waiting for them. Hazel and the pilot exchanged words, then instructed Mercury to stay behind to tend to the green haired one that seemed to be waking up after being injected with something by the pilot. Adam overheard Hazel mention "business to take care of in the city alone before returning to the tower", instructing them to "wait five days for my return".

Adam decided that the best course of action for him was to let his _friends_ pursue their goals alone for the time being. The White Fang needed him, needed him on the throne once again to lead them. He was their High Leader. Surely by the time he arrived there he would have figured out his next move; he didn't need to rely on Hazel for a goal when he had had one ever since his first day of slavery. Blake and Cinder would have to wait for him to be at his peak again before he ceded attention to them again. Adam had worked too hard for too long to abandon his White Fang now.

The trip to the inner sanctum of the White Fang was not arduous, although a human would have a difficult time making it through the twisting tunnels without a source of light and an idea of where they were going. The natural caverns had been inhabited long ago, but when Sienna's White Fang had discovered them whatever primitive society had lived there had long since died out or moved away.

As he finally made it to the subterranean barracks he was met with haggard glances from a handful of masked attendants.

They seemed to be wary of him.

He strode past them, intending to ignore their whispers but his keen ears betrayed him and carried their words to him. The words echoed in the cavernous space.

"He's back...why did he come back?"

"Sienna would have done better. How could we let a human kill her?"

"The creatures of grimm are everywhere now... supplies are nearly exhausted. We're just as destitute as before this all started. What am I supposed to do now, crawl back and beg for my job back?"

"I hear that the Menagerie Militia made a good impression with their arrival... maybe your boss could forgive what you did to his desk? Or at least you might have better luck finding a new job. I wouldn't use the dock job as a reference. Or this place."

"The Belladonnas are making a new movement in Menagerie... we should throw our lot in with them now, as a show of solidarity and support."

"Support for them? Or trying to get them to support us when the humans come for our hides?"

"Adam Taurus is a coward. How dare he show himself here."

"I can't believe he turned his back on us. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it on television, but he tried to kill all our brethren just to help his humans' plan."

_Really? It was not the return he had envisioned. Had all he had done for them, all his past victories in the name of attaining their people's justice, been in vain? To be so quickly forgotten and worse, demonized? He was their HERO! He was their High Leader. Their saviour. Before he had come to guide them, they had been mere outcasts consisting on the scraps of human society, slaves to the will of hornless humans, weaklings! Through his force of will and charisma alone had they been able to even conceive of the attack on Haven as a means to cripple the human threat. They had access to Cinder's resources only because she had valued him as an ally-without him as the leader of the Fang, the entire organization was worthless to her._

Adam did not break his quick stride and went straight to the throne room, although he noticed that the lair was less populated than it had any right to be. Had so many defected so soon?

Entering the throne room, he saw his seven remaining chamber guards-slash-temporary-war-council. He pushed the door shut after he entered. Better that the dissent outside his sanctum be left to fester for now. Before him stood those who would be most loyal to him, the ones he had turned against Sienna, at least those who had not already surrendered to the authorities at Haven after the battle. The ones whose skill sets had not included the stealth or diligence required by the mission. The one he trusted to keep the throne safe while he was away: his favourite, a stag-horned faunus named Petrac who had worked as a Mistral police officer before the Fang had convinced him that his lack of promotion was a sign of systemic oppression. The ones who believed his message, who believed that strength and unwavering conviction were the only path to freedom. If he could rally these, he could bring the rest of his forces to heel and get back to work. Whatever that work may be.

_Hunting down Blake? Dealing with this new schism created by Ghira Belladonna? Continuing their fight against humanity by whatever means they could construct? He was only a single powerful faunus. Even he could not do it all by himself. He needed them almost as much as they needed him._

Petrac was touching his throne, though. That just wouldn't do now that their leader was back. Time to re-assert his authority.

"Step away from my throne." Adam's deep voice demanded respect and obedience. "We have work to do."

They exchanged looks between themselves and did not move.

"We? Everyone knows what you did. You abandoned your brothers at Haven!" exclaimed Petrac. Adam was disappointed. He would have to make them see that he had not abandoned his brothers, their cause, and most importantly not them. Clearly they had been misinformed. He was here for them now. He would save them. They could always break those who had laid down their arms out of the human prisons at a later date, though Adam questioned whether their lack of dedication to the fight warranted such action.

"Step. Away." Adam continued calmly, needing to speak to them from a position of authority. Once he was in the throne again, they would listen to him and respect him properly. They would remember that he was the visionary that would topple the human oppressors. The warrior that would bring vengeance for the weaklings and pathetic faunus too afraid to fight back for themselves. He just needed them to capitulate to his throne. "From my-"

The quick rabbit-faunus guard, Luro, interrupted him. "We're not taking orders from you anymore." The man stood tall, unafraid to voice his treason. Adam's masked eyes widened at the outburst. If it was not for the man's skill with his weapon and the trust the locals put in him, Adam would have resorted to intimidating him with Blush. Given the circumstance, Adam was leaning towards leniency. Rumours must have travelled quick and been exaggerated in the days that had passed since their attack had failed. He would have to spend some time restoring his reputation against the lies the Menagerie Militia and the Mistral news outlets were no-doubt slandering him with.

He moved to continue forward, hopeful to rebuild and reclaim what had been lost to the defeat. He needed to refocus the Fang and strike back against the humans, bring them to their knees before him to make them pay. He needed his Fang to have a solid win again. He had to regain his honour and make a difference again. When he had lost, he had become lost in a way.

Luro kept talking, though. "We heard you folded the moment you got sass from the Belladonna girl."

The Belladonna girl. Blake.

Blake.

Adam's mind felt like it was tearing apart. He desperately needed to go to sleep. He needed to eat something. His previous calm eroded like sand in a torrent. The desertion of Blake had been gnawing at him, his promise to destroy the life she was trying to build for herself, cutting him out, weighed on him. He wanted to hunt her down and make her pay for hurting him. Hurting him differently than the others. Hurting him worse than any other.

Blake's face flashed in his mind. Her silken ebony hair. Her piercing amber eyes. The way her ears gave away her feelings.

It was a fresh wound and a deep wound, and the lieutenant had made the mistake of putting salt right in.

The part of Adam's psyche that was a calculating leader let go of the steering wheel. The part of Adam that was a fighter, a brutal warrior, took over.

His perception of the room shifted. His trusted allies were not awaiting his return, ready to help him rebuild after he demonstrated his continuing commitment to their cause. They had taken defensive stances, their postures screaming hostility. Jacen's pistol's safety was off, loaded with red dust bullets. Ready to pounce on him the moment he showed weakness. Scavengers seeing him as scraps of his former self.

Luro was taunting him, trying to get him to make a fatal mistake. They were wanting for a fight. They were expecting to overpower him. They had the advantage of numbers, seven to one. They had the advantage of being well-rested. Fully armed. They were prepared for this.

He would not be outclassed by them. He had been responsible for training most of them before being sent to Vale! He had faced worse odds before. Seven to one was not something that made Adam Taurus balk. He was Adam Taurus. He was the man who would bring humanity to its knees. He was the strong faunus dreamed of by the child who slumbered fitfully in a sealed dust mining shaft. Anything that tried to kill him only made him stronger. That was his semblance. That was what made him special.

Adam's vision blurred. It felt like his skull was exploding. Like he was hungover and drunk in the same instant. The room swirled around him. Was one of the _traitors_ using an ability on him here, by his own seat of power? None of them had such a semblance that he knew of. Adam wasn't sure. Time was up.

"I guess she has more control over you than-" Luro continued but stopped midway through his gloating. His eyes moved away from staring Adam in the eye, instead dropping down and widening in fear. Adam would not go down without a fight. He would not allow himself to fall here, to these ingrates. He felt the handle of Wilt in his hand. It comforted him, focused him. Adam drew his blade, the slide of its metal voice echoing in the room and halting the leporine man mid-sentence.

Adam was not going to let them get the first shot. He was too quick for that.

Adam dashed forward, and the man would never make any sound again. He fell to the ground behind Adam, clutching at his chest where a wound had appeared faster than the man could react with his protective aura.

"What? No!" shouted the man's mate, another rabbit-ear. Adam didn't know her name; she was here because of Luro, not because of her own talents or clearance. Nor had Adam ever trained her; the way she held her trembling pistol was proof enough of that.

The room erupted into violence. Petrac trained his pistol on Adam, but the bullets were deflected by the whirling spin of his signature red blade. Two lieutenants charged at him with a halfsword and a scimitar, which earned the former a quick trip to the ground as Adam swept his legs out from underneath him with a crouching kick as Wilt flew out and bounced off the scimitar-wielder's neck, protected by a shimmering purple aura field.

"Your fear doesn't control me anymore, Adam! Ghira has opened up a new era of peaceful negotiation with the government of Mistral! He-" the man's thoughts were stopped when his aura fell to three quick consecutive shots from Blush, and his scimitar fell to the red carpet-laden floor. Wilt ricocheted back towards Adam, and he caught the sword to block half of a volley from scale-faced Jacen's pistol. Adam's aura fell further as it absorbed the dust-infused bullets.

_As he fought, Adam's mind reduced itself to a primal state. He was a child again, like when his wretch of a mother had sold him to the SDC rather than try to raise him herself. He was alone again, like when the SDC had sealed off the mine shaft he was in because of the risk presented to their operations by the grimm incursion swarming the caverns. He was abandoned again. Always abandoned. Always having to fight to get anything._

Adrenaline flooded his body and everything paradoxically seemed to slow down while his thoughts were barraging him all at once.

_Hunt down Blake. Visit upon her the grief that she had cursed him with since Forever Fall. _

_Mistral, a lost cause. His troops in Vale, possibly yet loyal. Vale, still vulnerable, ripe with opportunity and not unreachable. _

_Being the saviour of the faunus. No compromise, doing anything necessary to change the world. A world that had hurt him his entire life deserved to burn._

The halfsword darted at his flank but his body deflected it with Blush, absorbing the power of the strike and fuelling his semblance. More bullets from Petrac at the top of the stairs, absorbed by Wilt. The pistol ran out of bullets and the stag-antlered figure took a moment to agonize over whether it was a better idea to reload or join the fray at the base of the stairs. Wilt jabbed into the cat-eared faunus with the halfsword, slicing off a chunk of thigh; Coloco screamed in pain. Falling to the ground in torment, the halfsword bouncing far enough away to not be an immediate threat. Adam remembered training Coloco in swordplay, before Sienna had ordered him to go to Vale, and the day that he had given the sword to his compatriot as a gift to recognize competence.

Two more guards from the stairs thrust at him with their ceremonial pikes, which were conveniently easy to knock out of the way leaving the pair open; at least they had looked good while standing idly beside the throne. Wilt tore at their auras and then it tore through their throats. Undeserving of any mercy; they had pledged themselves to defend him, to represent the faith in him held by the Fang, yet here they were raising their weapons against him. Conspirators all.

Blood gushed from open wounds. Screams howled by dying mutineers. The carpet soaked in the former. The banners hung throughout the room absorbing the echo of the latter.

Adam kept moving, Wilt deflecting a few attacks that still shot towards him with only a couple more glancing blows whittling away at his aura. He was not in top form, exhausted and drained from the events of the past few days. It was fine. He should still have plenty of aura left. Adam was not a man with a massive pool of aura, yet between his training-honed speed and ability to absorb elemental and kinetic energy with his sword he had managed thus far despite everything life had thrown against him.

Adam kept thinking as his body continued to cleave through the enemy.

_Loose ends and promises. The fall of humanity for the faunus to rise. Being the hero he was destined to be. Never being abandoned again._

_If he went after his treacherous pupil and her team, he would satisfy himself. Satisfaction in the knowledge that his words were not threats, but promises. He had to do that for himself. He had to do that to her. Yet the need to lead the Fang to victory again was just as important to him. He had to fulfill his vision of the humans brought to their knees before him, their cities alight as the faunus claimed Remnant for their own. It was a world of bloody evolution, and the faunus were the dominant species-they just needed him to remind them of that truth. To show them that truth. Of course, he also desired to see his deal with Cinder and Hazel through. He had been rightfully cautious, reluctant to work with them at first, but the results had been simply delightful. Vale's vaunted human-oriented social systems had collapsed, leaving the strong to survive the chaos that followed._

_The faunus were strong._

_The faunus survived._

_No longer shackled by the human's rules, by their laws, the faunus of Vale had managed to take power where before they had been scarcely better than slaves. Waitresses became tavern owners. Labourers became valued soldiers against the increased grimm presence and demonstrated their natural skills to humans who had once thought them barely worth paying minimum wage. Across Vale, the social position of faunus improved because of the vacuum _he _had created. Even the humans who feared the faunus (as they should!) were forced to rely upon them during the time of crisis. He could capitalize on that, rally the faunus of Vale to his message. The scales were balancing, but Adam would not rest until the roles had been completely reversed. His lifetime's worth of suffering demanded the satisfaction of vengeance._

_The victory at Beacon had revitalized his drive to free the faunus, to be the representative of their species on an otherwise human initiative to engender massive change. Cinder's strange power could make change happen, but Adam had to invert their relationship somehow. He had to get her to work for his cause, rather than vice versa as it had been. To do that, he had to be a significant actor in her plans. He had risen through the ranks of the Fang through skill and determination, he could do the same for Hazel and Cinder's master._

Adam's body never wavered, even though his mind was occupied by myriad distractions his eyes remained trained, calculating the trajectories of bullets streaming towards him. His corded muscles reacted on instinct his constant training had ingrained upon them. Dust bullets pounded into Wilt but it did not waver.

_Slice_! A hand flew through the air, severed sinew spraying forth red vitality while gripped firmly to the halfsword Coloco had retrieved. If he had been intelligent rather than competent in a fight, he would have tried to get away. If he was loyal instead of competent, he would never have drawn his sword.

_Slash_! A red blur of energy sped at Petrac on the stairs, who tried to block Moonslice with his shield. The choice to try to block rather than dodge Adam's semblance earned the man a gaping chest wound, a sundered shield and a sudden trip for his vacant-eyed face to the lavish carpet. Adam had trained him better than that. He should have known he stood no chance at blocking Adam's semblance when it was so fully charged.

Jacen aimed his reloaded pistol at Adam just in time to notice that Adam had closed the distance between them. Adam slammed him to the ground and aimed Blush at the man's chest. He pulled the trigger while holding the man's terrified gaze. Now scales weren't the only thing splattered unevenly over his face.

_Zzzap_! A noise from behind, a blast of electric dust energy surging towards him; someone had managed to flank him. Adam grasped the end of his chokutō with his free hand and used it to brace his blade as a barrier as he spun to face the lightning bolt, managing to absorb the bulk of it as what had managed to hit him made his hair stand on end and his back itch like he had lain down in a bed of poison ivy. His aura was getting low.

"No! No!" screamed the last of the turncoats as she finally decided to try to flee the room, dropping a handful of yellow dust as she recognized that her attack had only empowered him further; Blush made short work of her as three rounds found purchase in her aura-less back, but he darted forward and impaled her for good measure. Lura's rabbit-eared mate fell to the ground and slid off his blade as Adam moved to the grand doors and sealed them, barring them closed with a heavy wooden beam before moving back up the stairs to sit in his throne.

"What a waste. We could have accomplished so much. We were all so close."

The strongest or most in-the-know members of the Mistral White Fang lay dead on the ground. Sprawled on the stairs leading to his throne. Crumpled in a heap by a pillar. Drowning in a pool of their own constitution as it soaked into the long crimson rug that led from the door to the throne.

Adam sat in the throne. It was where he had belonged. It didn't feel right anymore. It had been a symbol of his control over his people, of the truth of his message. What use is a symbol if it cannot be communicated? Anyone who would recognize it now was outside the room in the barracks attempting to pack up and leave, and Adam felt like few of them would appreciate his redecorating of the sanctum. Blake had truly taken everything from Adam except his life, the possibility of his future. After struggling so long, against such stacked odds, he found himself little better off than when he had started. Enemies everywhere, nobody to trust or rely on. Hope and hate the only reason he kept on going.

"The Belladonna girl," he said, quietly musing over the last words Luro had uttered. To speak louder would only serve to further aggravate his growing migraine. The Mistral Brotherhood had turned on him, forsaken him, failed him. They had chosen their fate. It wasn't his fault that this happened. They chose this. They chose to abandon the cause they had all sworn themselves to. "Blake."

Adam stood up and faced the throne. It meant nothing now, its power hollow.

_The faunus here would not follow him... but perhaps the faunus in Vale were more loyal._

_Reigning in Blake would restore his honour following his defeat, his sense of self-worth which she had been chipping away at since her desertion._

_Hazel's master might offer a better solution, a plan or fresh avenue for him to be the faunus warrior the meek oppressed masses deserved. Or at least show him a path to inflict pain back on the world._

Pain.

His semblance flared through him, causing his hair and clothes to glow a deep red, channelling the remaining stored energy into his weapon.

A single blow bisected the throne, the blade back in its sheath before the back of the throne crashed down onto the stone floor.

Adam screamed. Anguish. Rage. His whirlpool of dark emotions sustained his inner turmoil as the red glow of his semblance's power faded from his hair. "I can't choose. It's too much. I can't bear to be alone now. There is so much that needs to be done! Do I... can I make a choice?"

Unseen, the bronze ring under his gloved hand glowed green as the tines melted into the band. In his exhausted state Adam stumbled forward, tripping over the remnants of the throne; hearing a sound behind him, he angled his shoulder and transformed the ungainly motion into an awkward roll, tumbling under the banner that hung behind the throne before regaining his footing and drawing his blade. Had he discharged Moonslice too soon? Had one of the lieutenants survived, or had someone managed to sneak into the room undetected via one of the side chambers?

These thoughts vanished from his mind as he saw what lay before him in the centre of the room. A tall, green-skinned feminine creature wearing a heavy chasuble from under which sprouted two pairs of fluttering bat-like wings that connected to her knees, with legs that ended in intimidatingly large crustacean claws. At the end of each stretched wing-arm was a humanoid hand, which were presently facing their palms upwards in a divine gesture. She seemed to have come out of nowhere, growing larger each moment until she was three times the size of Adam; what had been a spacious audience chamber for the leader of the White Fang seemed ridiculously small. Her claws opened wide and snapped shut as they dangled beneath her floating body, and the creature sighed in what may have been relieved pleasure through a gaping maw lined with thousands of interlocking razor fangs. Her eyes were distinctly reptilian, with vertical irises and eyelids she used to blink as she took in her surroundings.

Adam's sword felt heavy. He was tired from the fight, from his defeat, from his retreat. He had no idea what it was in front of him.

**Darkness. Light. The will to determine what path you walk is the gift of all your kind. Take this gift and realize the blessing of choice as you never have before. Behold, mortal, for I am Dai. A being entrusted by the God of Darkness to ensure that humanity was always capable of using the gift he granted them. I am the eternal warden and inhabitant of the Relic of Choice and represent its power to those who would deign themselves worthy to wield it. By saying my name and asking for the power, you have summoned me forth.**

Adam stared, momentarily awestruck by what he saw. His mind sluggishly struggled to comprehend what was being said.

"_What_ are you?" whispered Adam while he levelled his rifle at the new arrival. Her long, tapered ears had twitched as he spoke; despite his meek volume she seemed to easily hear what he had said. "The God of Darkness? Relic? Choice? I don't know what you are saying!"

**I come without any hostility towards you, Adam Taurus. Fear not your ignorance of what I speak, all you need to understand is that you have awoken a power greater than you were ever taught existed. With this power, your desires can all be brought to fruition.**

Adam glanced around the room. A drop of blood hovered in midair as it had begun to fall from Luro's chest. Time had stopped for everything except for him and the creature. The room seemed colourless compared to the luminosity of her towering figure as she hovered in the air, as if her body absorbed the colours from the area. Her wings seemed to be more for show than utility; the laws of physics as he understood them demanded she be flapping like a hummingbird to stay so evenly in the air, but instead they moved with lethargy if at all; rippling so slowly that her leathery wings made no sound that his faunus hearing could detect. Everything about the creature, from its alien gaze to the languid motions of its limbs, radiated patience and calm. She had no fear of him. Trusting in his instincts, Adam stowed his weapon and walked around his shattered throne to stand face to face with the glowing creature. He was certainly willing to entertain it in parley if that meant not having to fight it after tiring himself with the traitors on the floor.

"Are you a faunus?"

He had never seen a creature like Dai before, so he could not say for certain if she scowled or not, but he felt like his question earned him one from her.

**I am not bound to answer irrelevant questions. My divine charge is to empower my wielder with the power when they call my name to embrace choices.  
**

It was not a yes, but it was also not a strict denial.

Adam's mind wandered back to a dimly lit mining shaft, when he had listened to a tale told by an old mole in the perpetual darkness of the mine shafts. A tale of a mythical goddess, of prosperity, of a greater destiny for the faunus. He asked her to repeat what she had first said, when she first appeared. He tried to listen more attentively.

"Very well. So I am the wielder of this relic? You serve me? What is this gift?"

Dai's expression changed to a chesire grin.


	3. Say My Name

**Do you know what choice is, Adam Taurus?**

Adam made a lacklustre shrug, a gesture which Dai seemed to accept without judgment.

**Choice permeates every action you take. Every decision you make. Every living soul on Remnant is blessed with the innate ability to choose what path they will follow. Every living soul on Remnant is cursed to be constrained by the choices they have made. Do you see the paradox of it? If a man walks down a forest path and finds it to split into two, he must make a choice in order to continue forward. He can take the left path or the right path. He can spend his life debating between the two. He can turn around and try to retrace the way he came. He is free to choose. He is not a slave to fate. He is bound to himself and his own free will.**

**The paradox of choice is that it gives freedom and bondage with the same act.**

**If he follows the left path, he will not experience the right. If he follows the right, he may wonder forever what lay down the left. For every action taken, there are actions not taken. Actions that can never be taken, because the moment of choice has passed.**

_Okay, so being able to choose gives the man freedom, but also restrains him to the path he has chosen. What does that have to do with me?_ Adam tried to keep his attention on her, but even with time seemingly halted his migraine and gnawing hunger pangs made it hard for him to focus; that the subject so far was so much more academic than practical did him and his limited philosophical education no favours.

**You called my name, and in you I sense a soul at the crossroads. Adam Taurus, as the bearer of the Relic of Choice, you are truly free. Free to choose unlike any other living soul on Remnant, unfettered by the curse inherent to the paradox.  
The power of the Relic of Choice is that it lets you walk multiple paths on the road. The left and the right are both within your grasp to achieve, without sacrifice of the other.**

"So what, it lets me travel back in time so that I can avoid mistakes and live without regrets for choices I didn't make?" Adam piqued up, thinking about several moments in his past that he would not mind having a mulligan on. A girl he should have listened to more and trusted less. A mine shaft where his friends had chosen their bounty of dust over him and left him behind. A zig when he should have zagged.

**Someone travelling backwards in time is impossible, even for the Gods. Better to leave rewriting history to historians.**

Adam slouched a bit at that.

So much for those impromptu plans to fix his life. _Dai is not helping me at all with this so far_. This was just like when Blake was trying to teach him to be literate: why would a word have more than one meaning even if it was spelled the same? So confusing, and just when he thought he understood the meaning of the word. It was at that moment that Adam had convinced himself that when humanity fell at his hands, one of his first edicts would be to have the faunus create their own language, perhaps similar to the sign-language the mine slaves had taught one another to talk without alerting grimm or angry humans to their presence. A sensible language. A language that would let him be content with its content.

**Despite not allowing you to traverse the fabric of time at your leisure, the power of the relic is still a magnificent gift. Activation of the relic splits the wielder's soul into two separate bodies, each identical and having the same statistics and capabilities, but driven to achieve one of the decisions of the original without being distracted by the draws and desires necessary for the fulfillment of the other. The activation results in a localized surge of divine energy, which some attuned creatures may respond to. The bodies each represent a slice of your psyche, dedicated to the pursuit of one of your conflicting aims.**

**No matter how many versions of you exist simultaneously, they still share a single soul. Each body can be destroyed in the same ways as you could be now, although they are each protected by the extension of your soul humans refer to as aura; the extension of the soul across several bodies may also confer additional benefits. **

**There is no guarantee that either of the decisions will end in success, or that you are making proper choices. Each version lasts until it is destroyed or until it willingly merges back into its partner; in the latter scenario the resultant being has the combined memories of each psyche slice and the choice no longer counts against the century limit of the relic, but the reformed soul can not use the Relic of Choice again that century if that would put it over its personal limit.**

_So this relic can split me into multiple bodies that are each as strong as the original, but are focused on a particular task representing a defined choice that requires being in a place which would prevent the other option from being viable. _

"There are no limits to what the task can be?" Adam asked, getting a sense of what Dai was telling him now. "Does it matter what the choice is about? Could I use the power of the relic to try two different kinds of soup at a restaurant, or does it have to be something more meaningful?"

**The relative importance of the situation does not alter the enormity of the gift. While the original intention of the relic was to underline the magnanimity of the Gods in allowing mortals to have free will to choose between good and evil, it is not a requirement of your usage. If one of the soups would lead you to a different fate than the other, then who is to say the choice taken there is more important than a choice to do good or evil in any other hypothetical situation? You are the bearer of the relic, and it is your gift to use when you see fit.**

Adam thought about the needs which tormented him the most, the conflicting emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He had a pretty good idea of what he would use such a power for, but before he leapt at the carrot dangling in front of him caution begged him to inquire further into the nature of the process.

"Which one will be the real Adam? If I use the relic, which Adam is in charge? How do we tell which of us is the original?"

**Each one is the real Adam Taurus. Each one shares your soul, with all its aura and semblance. One soul, two bodies. All your memories and mannerisms... each one will be the same at the start except that they will not feel any inclination to follow the other path.**

"So can I just use the relic to choose between random choices over and over again to make an army of myself?"

**You are being clever. That is why I have enjoyed my time riding around on your hand these past few months. Well, one reason why I liked it.**

Dai's chelipeds snapped quickly shut before she began gently rubbing the serrated grooves on their inside edge to make a locust-like droning noise that barely registered to his faunus senses; Adam had a moment to wonder silently what the strange gesture could mean from a being foreign as her.

He suddenly noticed that she had begun drawing slightly closer to him during their conversation, reducing her size to be more on par with his own while floating forwards nigh imperceptibly: farther away she had been large, closer she was smaller, but from his point of view she had stayed the same size.

He doubted she had gone through all this trouble to make him feel at ease before attacking him. Still a possibility, though. He let his left hand fall back down to lay on Blush, a defensive posture which she seemed to understand. The question left to Adam was did she stop her serene approach because she feared his weapon, or because she genuinely wanted to continue the conversation without making him feel imperilled?

**I'm afraid that the Relic of Choice is limited to activating its power three times a century for an individual soul, and can maintain a maximum of three choices at any instant. Even if your choice clones merge back together, that does not allow you to make new choices that would put you over that limit. Merging back together simply lets someone else use the relic's power in a century when it would otherwise have been expended, without having to destroy one of the existing users.**

"Alright. So three charges, which would mean there could be four of me made from three choices?"

**Indeed.**

Adam sat down on the ground, cross-legged, and thought about the situation. He would be able to think more clearly if his tired everything wasn't distracting him, and standing tall to intimidate Dai was not going anywhere constructive. If she could change her size at will, he doubted he could match her in a test of might, especially considering his current fatigue.

"Tell me more about the relic itself. What is it?"

**You presently bear the Relic of Choice in its shrunken form as a ring on your hand; I have been silently observing you since you retrieved me at Beacon after the Maiden activated the vault and the Wizard's wand dismissed the seal. Then you deftly passed the Wizard's riddle and secured me as your prize. I was impressed at how you managed to get through the layers of intricate protections the Old Man had put around me; I am not sure how much research it took and how many resources you had to expend to obtain the relic's power for yourself, but I am grateful you did and I promise to make it worth the cost. I was worried that after the last use, he would keep me from functioning or being out in the open ever again.**

_Whelp. Now is probably not the best time to admit that I found it by complete accident without knowing anything about what it was. _Adam pulled the supple black leather glove from his hand and examined the bronze ring, now a radiant green hue. Adam nodded. _So that's how it was. A magic ring._

Suspiciously he suddenly queried, "how have you been observing me?"

**Once you held the relic and perceived it as belonging to you, I was able to share your sensory input. It was a harmless effect, meant only to allow me to be aware of an attempt to summon me forth from the confines of the device.  
**

"Do I have to do anything for the relic? Do I need to clean it or power it? Is it fragile, does it melt?"

**The relic itself is indestructible; no mortal undertaking could destroy it.**

"That's good. I would hate to get in a fight and accidentally sunder something so confusing." Adam snarled as he spoke, his mind filing fact away. "If I use this relic to make a choice copy of myself, which one has the relic afterwards? If we both have the same hands, which hand wears the ring? Wouldn't that Adam be the real one?"

**It is a matter of personal preference. By default, the relic is tied to your aura. To use it a second time after it has been used by a still-living pair typically requires the pair to be physically touching. There have been instances in the past of the clones choosing to have the relic materialize as a physical object again for a single one of them to bear, tied to a single body. Such an act has advantages and disadvantages, I would suppose. If the relic is used and one of the pair is destroyed, the ring takes physical form on the remaining choice clone.  
**

Adam sat in quiet contemplation of what he had learned. So far the chances of this all being a trick were about fifty-fifty evenly. He could name several people who would relish a chance to get his hopes up like this, just to screw him over that much more. He could think of at least one person who had the ability to: but he had left Emerald a day before and she had not seemed to be in any sort of shape to pursue him, much less pull off a stunt such as this spectacle.

While he was hesitant to admit, there was also the increasingly strong chance that, having gone without real rest or food beyond what he could scrounge from the forest as he ran through it, Adam had simply gone entirely insane.

_Not that I was the picture of mental health before_, he thought to himself. _I spent too much effort focused on Blake when I could have just left well enough alone until an opportunity fell in my lap like it did at Beacon._

His eyes gave the dead Fang lieutenants on the floor a quick glance.

_Yeah, not really feeling like I'm the poster child for mental health at the moment._

He locked his eyes on Dai. _How does one go about investigating someone of being a figment of the imagination? If it was an illusion, maybe it was limited to sight and sound. Perhaps his other senses could pierce the deceit? _"Dai, can I touch your..." Adam quickly tried to figure out what part of Dai was the least controversial thing to ask to feel, before deciding upon the hands; "hand? I need some way to prove to my other senses that what I am seeing, what I am hearing, is real."

Dai angled her head in a quizzical sort of way, and Adam's ears detected the soft rasp of her dangling claws again.

**Our first encounter and you already want to hold my hand? So bold, Adam Taurus. **Dai took a moment to fan her face with her hand as the glowing green cheeks darkened. **Of course, I shall let you inspect the perfection of my hand.**

Dai rapidly shrunk until she was a solid head shorter than Adam as he sat, and hovered up the dais before him holding forward her winged arm in a pose Adam could only describe as bashfully dainty. He had to admit, now that she was not towering over him he noticed that her face was perfectly symmetrical and rather cute in an impish sort of way.

Her palm facing down and her fingers forming an arch, Adam slowly reached out and took her hand in his right. Upon finding her hand completely enveloped in his, Dai let out a low gasp. Adam massaged his thumb across her palm, his rough sinewy digit caressing her flawless skin before gently pressing her hand between his thumb and index finger to assure himself of the reality of what was happening, the reality of Dai's physical presence in the room. He _felt _her. He moved his face to their joined hands and gently inspected the smell: surprisingly minty. Almost too minty, like it was covering up another smell like a perfume, but so strong that any underlying scent was undetectable. If he had inherited a bestial nose rather than his stubby horns perhaps he would have gleaned something more from the act.

Meanwhile, Dai's face began emitting a slightly brighter glow, and she turned her head away from him while closing her reptilian eyes. Her mouth was closed so tightly that her teeth had been concealed behind her plump lips. He drew his head back.

"So it lets me really be in more than one place at once. It lets me pursue my goals if they take me in different directions. And I can use it for four paths, using the three charges." Adam listed the facts as best he had heard them, "do I have to choose now?"

Dai was unresponsive to the question, her eyes closed and the purring drone coming from her claw-feet. Adam spared her a concerned glance before tapping a few times along the top of her hand with the nail of his little finger to get her attention. Dai stirred herself from her brief reverie and looked straightly at him once more, though her eyes did dart down quickly to see where their bodies were still connected.

"Can I sleep before I use the gift?"

**In this demiplane of existence, we are cut off from the astral plane where your soul must return to recalibrate itself. You cannot sleep in this non-time, Adam. Here is now, and in the now there is only us.**

Adam struggled in vain to understand what any of that meant. His mind filled with a sudden burst of rage at Atlas; if they had provided him with an actual childhood, proper education like any of their human citizens, then perhaps he possess some insight into what she meant by that. Instead, they had thrown him into a dark pit and told him to get crystals to power their technological comforts and not die, in that order of priority.

Oh, how he longed to give them their due.

Adam realized that he was still holding Dai's hand, and that it had surreptitiously wound its way into clutching onto his. He unbuckled her hand from his own, releasing her one finger at a time until finally sliding his thumb out of her grip. Dai brought the relinquished arm back to her side, and the hand disappeared under her chasuble.

**My apologies for the obfuscation, Adam. You do not have to make a choice now if you do not want to, since the Gods in their foresight permit me to simply explain the nature of the relic to a new bearer while applying the chronoprohibitor field. However, the next time you call my name and desire to use the Relic's power to make a choice, a choice must be made immediately. Although the sense of the term 'immediately' suffers somewhat, since the field will allow you to make your decision with a generous amount of relative time.**

"I think I know exactly what choices I want to use the power of this relic for, Dai." Adam said as he stood up.

"I want to choose both hunting down Blake and fighting for the faunus, rather than between the two. I cannot keep letting my personal attachment to Blake get in the way of my revenge against humanity. I cannot trust dealing with Blake to anyone else. The disaster in Menagerie is proof enough of that. My relationship with her has brought me nothing but grief. Now it is bringing me defeat after defeat. I need it dealt with, but I will not let it dominate my actions. Not if I can choose not to, not if I can trust it to be done by someone I can rely on." Adam stepped down the dais, past where she floated, and knelt beside the body of Luro. He pinched the drop of suspended blood falling from his chest and stood up. He let go of the drop of blood at eye level, where it remained for a moment before disappearing, reappearing at its original location.

_Even at Beacon I had to face my own kind. They will see in time that I am doing what is best for them. I am doing what is right for the faunus._

"His name was Luro. When he was a child, he escaped the circus where his parents gave birth to him. He made his way to the big city, Mistral. He thought things would be better there, away from the cruel lash of the ringleader." Adam walked across the room to Luro's wife, continuing as he went, "Luro didn't find anything better there. There are so few opportunities for faunus to succeed, to do anything better than scavenge off humanity's scraps. They call it charity, equalization processes, affirmative action, but in their minds they still think us beasts. Monsters." He touched his grimm mask.

Dai watched him move about the room as she moved up the dais, eventually coming to float above the toppled throne.

"I will keep fighting. What else do I know how to do?" Adam looked at Luro's wife, regarding the scorches left by Blush on her back and the slushy gash where he had impaled her with Wilt. "I don't know which way of fighting is better, though. I can fight with the Fang, with my people, as their leader. It is what I always wanted, almost as much as I wanted to bring humanity to its knees. For all that, I've come to see that there are powers in this world I don't understand. This," Adam proclaimed, waving his hand at the unchanging room, at Dai, and at his glowing ring, "Relic of Choice, you. Cinder. Cinder's master. There are powers that I didn't know existed. Powers that could certainly be used to further my aims for this world and myself. Before I called you, I could not figure out whether I should trust in my adopted family or in whatever Cinder represents."

Adam plucked a lightning dust crystal from the corpse, then noticed a satchel on her leg with a rainbow bounty. He examined them as the first crystal returned to its original location.

"I choose to fix the world, by going to Vale to reform my White Fang so that we can conquer the kingdom and impose my will on everyone, human and faunus, as their master, while also joining Cinder and Hazel's master in their attempt to tear down the societies of man while ensuring that the faunus benefit from that revolution."

Adam walked back to Dai.

"How do I activate the power of the relic?"

**Take my hands in yours.**

Dai held forth her hands, and without hesitation Adam reached for them. Dai smiled, her needle-like teeth reflecting the frozen torchlight as much as radiating her own glow.

**Tell me what crossroads you face, and what two directions you would follow where a mortal would be constrained to one.**

"I face diverging paths, leading to resolution or to retribution: I can track my partner Blake wherever she runs or continue to fight against humanity's mistreatment of the faunus. I would follow her relentlessly to punish her like I promised her I would and I would let my attachment to her fade so that I can champion our people's salvation from humanity's control.

**Do you accept the gift of the Relic of Choice?**

Adam nodded.

**I need to hear you say it.**

"Yes"

Dai's face lit up with her Cheshire grin once more. She raised her clawed legs and grabbed him on his sides of his firm stomach.

**One more thing that I forgot to mention, Adam Taurus.**

**The actual action of having your soul divided into two bodies?**

**It hurts.**

Dai's words had barely left her mouth when her legs split away from one another while firmly fastened to his shimmering aura.

As his soul was rent asunder by the ancient daemon, Adam seemed inclined to agree. It hurt a lot.

~~J~~

POV: An Adam Taurus

Adam woke from unconsciousness, his head dizzy and his body aching.

"I think I'd rate that a solid nine-point-six on the Adam scale of pain" two identical voices said together. Lying on the floor beside Adam was either the most seamless mirror ever to be crafted by a gaffer, his long-lost twin brother, or the product of accepting the gift offered to him by the green not-a-hallucination. Noticing one another simultaneously, they rolled away from each other to opposite sides of the throne platform before springing to their feet and drawing Wilt in a bizarre mirror of one another.

"Oh, right. The relic duplication thing. Well I guess that worked." the twins stated nonchalantly. Each one sheathed their weapons.

"We should take inventory of the situation." they said, "and figure out a way to stop speaking in tandem. This is. This is no. Stop saying what I am. About to. Say. Swimming dotted xylophone wax!"

The Adams watched one another warily.

"This would be hilarious if it didn't seem like we are now back on the clock. How long were we out?"

Both moved to the body of Perac, and judging by the congealment of his fluids it had not been that long. "At least we managed to get a bit of sleep, right?"

"So what are your thoughts on all this?"

"I think we're wasting time when Blake is getting away." said the other Adam, while Adam responded with "I think our luck is finally taking an upward swing."

"Well I guess that answers the question of who is pursuing which choice." Adam said, while the other Adam moved away from Perac and began opening a secret passage that led out the back of the throne room; thankfully the only people who would have known about its existence were in prison, had been killed in this room, were Adam, or possessed of the Belladonna last name.

His thoughts following a parallel process the other Adam grumbled, "Blake would know about the tunnel, but she won't have to worry about it as much as she will have to worry about me coming for her."

"If you can deal with that treacherous tease, I'll make sure our mission stays on track. That's this whole thing's deal, after all."

"I've always said it is so hard to find reliable help. This is a welcome change of pace." they said together.

"So how do you feel?" Adam asked the other Adam. "Are you still me? I don't feel concerned about chasing Blake. It is a nice feeling, just being able to let someone else handle it without worrying that the job would be better done if I did it, because I am doing it." he continued, "there is certainly something to be said for this."

"Okay, it is similar with me. I remember my life before Dai split us, being constantly alone at the top, but now I can make sure Blake is as alone as she left me instead of having to worry about... everything," other-Adam told his new partner, "but with that said, and as much as I enjoy your incomparable company, we'll have to use the relic again on you, so that you can follow Cinder and Hazel without sacrificing our authority in the Vale Fang. When are we doing that? I'm sort of glad I don't have to feel all of that again. She did not lie. That was painful."

"Ah, it was only pain. I think we've become accustomed to the one constant in life by now."

"What did I do to deserve a life like this?" both wondered aloud.

There was a sudden klaxon sound from the other side of the large wooden doors. The alarm had been sounded! The Adams looked at each other, their minds considering the possibilities of why the base was now on full alert. Did they know what had just happened in the throne room? Had the men captured at Haven sold out the base so quickly, was Ghira's militia or the Mistral army at his doorstep?

"We need to do it now." they said in unison.

"Come over here," Adam called, and his reflection moved away from the secret egress he had revealed in the wall. While he moved towards Adam, both of their hands suddenly went to their belts and back pocket. Together, they looked at their matching versions of Wilt and Blush, then stared at each other as they lifted wallets from their copied clothing. They both opened the wallets and took out the lien and fake ID's stored therein.

"I have a proposition related to the abuse of the relic's power," both Adams exclaimed as the evidence of an unconsidered benefit became evident. The other Adam tossed his wallet to Adam, who caught it before hurrying over to grab the satchel of dust crystals from Luro's wife; the other Adam rifled through the clothes of the rest of the lieutenants and within a minute they had shoved all the various lien in the room into a single wallet in Adam's pocket, while from his belt hung the satchel stuffed with dust crystals. Not a fortune, but at the same time not a bad haul.

"Thanks." Adam said as he accepted the items. If Dai's power duplicated any items they carried, then they would complete morons to not make as much use of it as they could. Getting to Vale, hunting down Blake and Cinder, the tasks he had set himself to would require resources. While he was confident that even penniless and hungry he could manage, he would not look the gift horse in the mouth.

"I never thought that, after Blake, I would ever feel comfortable with another person like this again."

Adam pulled himself into an attempt at a hug, but the other Adam recoiled.

"What are you doing?"

"I was giving you a hug. That's what Blake used to do. I remember liking it." Adam whispered, his eyes aimed at the ground in disappointment, "I thought that we could hug."

"I'm sorry. It's just been so long. All this time, waiting for Blake to open up more, trying to make the world safe so that she wouldn't have to spend her time worrying about others and could spend time with me. Waiting for Blake to come back for so long, finding that she moved on and left me."

"She left us, now. You and me, we're the same."

"I don't know that I can trust another person after what she did to us."

"That's okay, then." Adam looked up and wrapped his arms around his grief-stricken brother, "I'm not another person. I'm just another you."

The other Adam tensed up and grabbed onto Adam's shoulders with his hands and reared up to push him away again, but then stopped mid-motion.

"You're right." he uttered softly, and leaned into the embrace so that his mouth was beside Adam's ear, "we're just two bodies with one soul. I can't bear to be close to another person until my feelings for Blake are resolved. But I can at least be honest with myself." His arms drew around Adam and returned the hug in full, and for a moment the pair stood there enjoying the nearly forgotten comfort of physical contact. Before Blake had come into his life and after Blake had left it, nobody had provided him with anything of the sort. His parents had abandoned him. His coworkers had avoided him. His followers had feared him.

Then an explosion made the ground shake. Each of them recognized the sound and understood that someone, or something, had just detonated one of the armouries. Together they released their grip on each other's backs and diminished their contact to holding hands so that the fragmented relic could be called upon once again.

"Alright, so you keep watch and I'll summon Dai again. I imagine I'll get knocked out again, so you cover my split until we wake up." Adam stated, "under no circumstances are you to leave me lying in this room to chase after Blake solo. For now, we're all heading back to Mistral anyways so our paths haven't really diverged noticeably yet. So sit tight, hold my hands, let's summon the monster-girl and cut my soul up some more."

"It sounds _really_ _weird_ when you say it out loud like that," other Adam sneered, taking off his gloves.

After taking off his gloves Adam grabbed hold of his copy's hands again. "Shush, you handsome devil you. Dai! I need to make a choice!"

Each of their hands began to glow, and a ghostly green ring materialized on each of their left hand's middle fingers; the green glow grew as vapour poured out of the ring and gathered itself on the floor, slowly taking the still-unfamiliar shape of Dai.

**Adam Taurus. Tell me the paths you wish to walk together.**

The other Adam stepped back from Adam and asked Dai, "will I go unconscious when you split him up?"

**You will be unaffected. The only reason you are in the field is because you contributed to the activation of the relic, tied to your aura as it currently is.** Dai turned back to regard Adam, holding out her hands. With only a hint of trepidation, Adam took hold of them in a fierce grip. He bowed his head for a moment.

"Dai, I am set on a path of justice against humanity, but my path splits into one of revolution and one of revelation. Let me pursue both, by going to Vale to rejoin my loyal followers there to lead them to victory once again while simultaneously seeking out Cinder's faction to discover what secrets they hold. I cannot do both at the same time without the power of the Relic of Choice. Grant me its gift once more, that my goals can be fulfilled without sacrifice of one for the other.

**Do you accept the gift of the Relic of Choice?**

"Yes."

Dai's claw grabbed him once more on his sides, and he tried to prepare himself for the coming agony.

No preparation could protect him from the pain of the gift, it seemed. He screamed and the world went dark.

~~J~~

POV: Another Adam Taurus

Dai's glow began to fade, but as she disappeared she turned her face towards him. **Do take care of yourselves, Adam.**

He drew his sword and checked Blush's ammunition, and time started moving forward once more. He inspected his new brothers, took back a copy of his wallet while leaving their disproportionately larger bounty of valuables untouched, then moved them into a less 'we-just-fell-on-the-ground-awkwardly' position. From outside came sounds of gunfire and screaming. That did not imply that the remnants of his forces outside the doors had figured out that something was amiss in the throne room. The base was definitely under attack.

It sounded like the base was losing the fight if they had been pushed back this deep.

_Screw it, we need to hustle if this is going to work for any of us. _Adam thought to himself. _I'm not going to lose track of Blake because of a little pain. _He slung his brother over his shoulders, ensured that he had not dropped anything, then began shuffling towards the escape route. _If this is what I have to put up with for myselves, their appreciation was going to take the form of letting me be the first one to get some sleep,_ he thought to himself as he closed the door behind him. On the other side was a hewn rock passage, which if he remembered correctly led to some underground river? He had never used the passage before. _Ah, just Adam alone in an underground tunnel. The more things change, the more things stay the same._ He felt the weight on his shoulders. _Well, at least it has changed a bit for the better since thirteen years ago._

Whoever was attacking the base, Mistral or Menagerie, he hoped that they did not think to cover wherever the secret passage led. Moving forward into the lightless cave, he almost immediately stubbed his toe on a protruding rock and nearly toppled over.

"Well I'm happy neither one of you were awake to see that one," he whispered to them as he gently lay them down on the cave floor. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his scroll. After fumbling to find the power switch on it, he waited in its dim glow as he watched the White Fang's private operating system load up. He sighed at the logo, which was a flame-covered bird over the title FlamingOS. The avian-faunus who had pirated, jury-rigged, and reverse-engineered scroll tech so that their terrorist organization had a secure means of communication using the human's network had been a genius. Perhaps a bit too egotistical and flamboyant at times. It had gotten him caught by Atlas security, after all. He had been dedicated, though. When the specialists had breached his lab, he had fail-safes in place.

The forensics teams had not been able to recover any of his hardware, or much of the specialists that had gone in. Adam wondered if his comrade had managed to make it out of the conflagration alive somehow. If he had, all the more power to him. His duty had been done: not a fighter but a tinker, he had passed the torch to Adam. The conflict became one of acting on their ideology, seeing them rise out from the shadows to oppose their human oppressors directly.

Blake had preferred the shadows. Easier to hide there, to run away from her problems. Adam had spent long enough in the dark. He yearned for the light, craved to bask in it. But Blake wanted to prevent him from reaching his destiny, from getting what he deserved, and for that she would pay a hefty price that he would collect from her. He would not let her deny his feelings anymore.

A noise from the darkness that spanned before him. A rock crumbling down, a distant scraping. Adam held Wilt forward with the hand not holding his scroll.

The scroll finished loading, and Adam pressed a button to maximize the screen's illumination to function as a flashlight.

Slithering towards him, across damp rocks, around columns of stalactites, from crevices and cavities, dozens of grimm had been advancing. Creep grimm, little more than clawed arms with maws and tails. Weak fodder at best, but conditions were cramped in the passageway and he was physically spent. He stepped forward, putting himself between his unconscious brothers and the swelling black tide.

"It's always the hard way." Adam growled as he put his scroll light-up on the ground so that he could take hold of Blush, casting his shadow on the jagged ceiling, "here's hoping the rifle's melody can wake me up quicker, because I am going to seriously earn some shut-eye if I have to do this all on my own."

~~J~~

POV: Yet Another Adam

They spun, back to back, through the mass of frenzied monsters like a tornado of red destruction; their blades finding easy purchase in the gaps between the armoured bone plates adorning the creatures' black hides. As they finished their decimation of the group of lesser grimm, a roar reverberated from further down the passageway.

"That sounded like something big." Adam stated calmly.

"That sounded like something angry." Adam replied from behind them as he knelt on the ground, exhausted from dealing with several groups on his own while Adam and Adam had recovered from their separation.

"Let's kill it," said the three of them, "and get some proper rest."

"Yeah, I'm so tired I'm seeing double!" snarked Adam.

"Laugh it up but you at least got to lay down a bit while I had to deal with all these," Adam wheezed out from the rear, gesturing weakly at the remaining smoking bodies from his solitary slaughter of the beasts.

"So how long were we out for this time?" Adam asked, his tone full of concern for their staggered triplet.

"I was. Not really. Watching. The clock." he replied while sucking in deep gasps of air, "but you could check the log of when I turned the scroll on. I got that thing going right before they all pounced at me."

Adam walked back and picked up the device, fiddled with it for a moment, then recited that they'd probably been out of it for ten minutes or so. The two newest Adams turned on their own scrolls and set them to their flashlight function.

"Enough worrying about that, let's go finish off whatever is still down there. I'm betting some sort of alpha."

"Ugh, sometimes I hate being right all the time," sighed the other two, "but we all know I am."

They surged forward down the natural hall in the light of Adams' scrolls and came to a large conflux cavern, strewn with larger stalactites and columns, with a large pool of dark water shaking at its centre being fed by a number of gullies full of listless sludge water. In the centre, roaring loudly at the intruders, was a massive grimm the length of six horses. It had the face of a deformed walrus, with massive tusks protruding from its maw to hang down like sharp daggers, while the rest of its body was like that of a lumpy black rat with raw white patches scattered in an asymmetrical splatter. Each limb ended with a trio of fingers tipped with deadly hooked claws, and its spindly tail was at least twenty metres in length. It was so large it was unable to get into the passage they had come through, but was between them and the various other passages leading from the area.

"A lavel grimm. Alpha, of course." Adam said, which earned a tired sigh from his following brothers as they came into view of the creature. He had fought a few of these before, though maybe not so large as this one, and he tried to remember the lessons he had learned from those prior encounters: _mind the venom in their teeth, best to not get hit at all since they were always rife with filth._

"That tail gives it a reach advantage in a melee," stated Adam, "we've got bullets to spare if it means not getting sick." In unison they each produced their version of Blush and took aim at the creature's face.

_It's hide is thick. Aim for its brain through its open mouth when it roars or tries to bite._

The creature roared again, and even as their rifles began blazing in harmony its bellow was all they could hear. Adam was forced to dive down the smooth slope towards its pool when its tail streaked towards him; missing him the tail gave one of his doubles a glancing shove that was more than enough to push him, causing him to stumble backwards.

Adam turned his dive into a roll down the erosion-polished stone since he failed to get enough friction to halt his momentum, drawing Wilt while the creature pulled its tail back in preparation for another lash. He heard his twin recover his footing and start joining another volley that their third had started, which distracted the creature long enough for Adam to evade a swipe from its foreclaws. He jabbed at its underbelly with Wilt, but the hide was too thick and he could not penetrate it. The lavel's knees crouched, making Adam think it was simply going to flatten him, but it surprised him and attempted an ungainly leap straight into the air. Clearly the creature wanted to make a bigger impact on him, but it gave him time to dodge out from underneath. As it landed, with its four shrewish legs askew, it found itself poorly defended against his melee assault.

"Get out of there, you're going to get yourself killed!" an Adam shouted, and it took him a moment that the command was not being directed at him but at his split-self, who had decided to join him in the water as they both brandished their gleaming red blades at the beast.

Both Adams leapt onto its back from opposite sides and raced up to the crook of its neck, Adam slung Wilt around its face and hooked through behind its tusks. His brother grabbed the end of Adam's Wilt and together they pulled back and wrenched the thing's jaw down, giving their most drained duplicate a clear line of fire at its mouth's exposed roof. The creature's tail whipped towards them, but his partner deflected the blow with his blade and it went crashing into a nearby column.

In the dim illumination provided by the scroll that Adam had dropped somewhere during his roll down the slope, he saw his third sibling grin maliciously as he took aim at the target the two had made for him.

_Bang-bang-bang!_

The sheath-that-was-also-a-gun fired a trio of shots directly into the creature's brain, and Adam had a front-row seat to watch the red glow fade from its eyes as black smoke began to gush out of its mouth. For good measure, and to not be outdone, Adam intensified his pull on his sword and began cutting through it from jaw to spine. His companion on the creature's back had the same idea, and together they began to slice through the ebon flesh.

As they completed the _coup de grâce_, their still-elevated brother fetched the fallen scroll and then slid down the rocks to wait for them at the edge of the pond. The cavern was silent.

"There," Adam said, pointing towards a side-tunnel, "a waysign." Indeed, there was a White Fang symbol carved into the rock of the passage. The Adams nodded, recognizing the way to get out of the cave system.

After another twenty-odd minutes of a combination of crawling, leaping, bounding and climbing, the trio emerged into the forest of Mistral's countryside once again. The newly risen moon cast a pale glow over the terrain, cutting through the sparse leaves of the dead trees surrounding the grimm-uninfested cave.

"So it seems probable that those things were drawn into the cave by the negativity of the Fang. That's the only explanation for why there were so many grimm gathered up like that." Adam said. He admired his companions for a moment. Even tired, beaten, and run ragged for days on end, they were still a force to be reckoned with. Unlike every other person he had ever fought beside, they had no need of his inherent leadership talents; instinctively they knew the best way to do things. His way of doing things. "What they were saying as we walked into the base..."

"Yeah, there was not much positive feelings in that place," interrupted an Adam, "but so what. They can sort out their own lives if they aren't going to stay on the path I set out for them."

They scouted the area and found a clearing suitable for a rudimentary campsite, taking some time to gather some edible roots and berries that had grown ripe with the wilderness' summer season.

"So what are you thinking right now?" asked Adam as they sat down to eat the meagre meal they had foraged.

"Just thinking of what Blake is doing right now. Probably surrounded by her friends and family in some cozy little place in the city, glorying in how she beat us. She'll be feeling on top of the world."

"Out of curiosity, how often does your mind not focus on getting Blake?"

"Less than it did before the split. Now that I have you and you, I don't have to worry about anything else. Now I have all the time I need to draw up my plans for her. What are you thinking about? I presume Blake does not factor into your thoughts."

"Not at all. I still hold all my memories of what she did to us, and what she didn't do to us, but I've sort of come to terms with that. It is out of my hands, now, and knowing that you are dealing with that is the reason why I'm so relaxed about the subject now." Adam responded in sync with his most recent psyche slice brother.

"I just want to get back to making good on the promise we made to myself in those mines. Making sure that humanity never has the power to hurt another child again, by any means at my disposal. That's why I have to find those means, even if that means cozying up to human dissidents like Cinder." Adam's purpose twin continued.

"I just can't wait to get back to Vale. I know our forces there will fall in line once I return and promise them more victories like Beacon. We were doing fine there without Cinder, I can make them see that and capitalize on our gains in Vale." Adam supplied. "So I guess we know where we are each heading, sort of."

The three of them sat there around their dimly flickering campfire for a minute in silence. Adam broke the silence, "I was thinking something else, too."

"Which one of us is Adam?"

"Yeah. If none of us is not Adam, then none of us is really Adam, right?"

"I guess. You know what we need?" the other two replied in chorus.

"Of course you know I know what you know we need!"

"Codenames!" they shouted gleefully.

"Alright, what is your codename going to be?"

"I'm thinking 'Night Striker'. It's totally badass."

"Yeah, it is totally badass but has nothing to do with what you're doing, does it?" replied Adam's twin, "also are we going with titles or code words or aliases? I'd prefer a solid nom de guerre that we can use to talk to one another while infiltrating Mistral. Not something so dry as 'Joe' 'Pat' and 'Steve', but something we can call each other when other people are around that won't sound suspicious."

"I mean, Blake's hair is black, like the night sky. And my goal is to strike out at her."

"That's really a stretch."

"Okay, fine. If you don't like my idea, then tell me what you have for me."

"Well, I was thinking that you're the version of Adam that is focused on hunting down the Belladonna family, not just Blake. So you're the Belladonna-Adam, so we can shorten that to Belladam."

"That's not much of a codename, but I guess it is less odd to say in public than Night Striker," he returned, "but Belladam sounds a bit awkward."

"Wouldn't it flow better as Bedlam? Such as in "I want to get to bed, because we're on the lam?"

"Doesn't Bedlam mean crazy?"

"So you're saying it suits us all a bit too well?"

The three of them laughed and shook their heads as they said "it has been quite a strange day." They went quiet for a bit and got comfortable, finishing up the last of their meals.

"Alright, Bedlam then. You can have first sleep and we'll watch over you in the meantime since you watched us get born."

Bedlam shrugged. "Is it aggrandizement to thank myself like this all the time? I don't even care. I'm going to thank you, and you're me, and I'm falling asleep now."

Adam and his twin watched Bedlam fall asleep with his head resting against a flat stone, keeping their ears preened for sounds of grimm approaching.

"It is an odd thing, to be certain, watching myself sleep like this. Never in all our years did I think I would see something like this."

"We've been thrown a very strange hand here. I think it might work, though." Adam replied.

"So just so we're sure, me myself and I are on the same side, right? I'm sort of done with being betrayed at this point. Dai never said whether or not there was anything the prevented us from fighting one another. I feel like that is something that I don't want to concern me in the future."

Adam had been thinking the same thing. "She did say that we both share the same soul, the same aura. Apparently our clothes and weapons are so much a part of our identity that they were also duplicated with us. Even the dust satchel we took off Luro's wife."

"Yeah, it looks like we doubled our dust, too. That's handy."

"So I guess we could fight one another, but it would be a bit of a meaningless endeavour since each blow would only harm ourselves."

_So it would just come down to the last blow_, Adam concluded silently.

"Okay, so we won't have to worry about directly fighting one another. How about a pact to not get in the way of each others' directives, or gank each other in the night?" his brother continued, his face a literal mask so that Adam couldn't read what he was thinking from his facial expression. If their minds were the same though, his brother had come to the same conclusion as he had.

Adam leaned into the light of the fire, illuminating his face, and took off his mask. His copy followed his lead. Adam looked meaningfully into his copy's eyes.

"No matter what, from here on in I can only rely on us, Adam Taurus. The point of this entire gift is cooperation. Where one of us can only achieve one goal, three of us can achieve them all. I make a pact here, today, that under no circumstances will I intentionally hurt any one of me. I can count on each of me to be true to myself, we have to be able to count on each other. If on some dark day it seems that one of me has turned against my cause, I will remember this moment and doubt whatever has led me to think such a thing. If I can't trust myself, then what kind of world is it? When all of our goals are reached and we stand above everyone else, praised for our commitment, for our strength, for our unwavering vision..."

"Then we will stand above everyone else together. One soul."

"One for all, and all for me."

They clasped their hands together above the embers of the campfire, their features glowing bright red as they reflected the ashen cinders.

* * *

Green mist stretched in every direction. No ground existed here. No sky. Just the green illuminated by its own luminescence. His eyes stretched open.

Adam tried to move but his limbs were numb. He tried to speak but his mouth was sealed shut. He tried to close his eyes but they were paralyzed.

**I have watched you, Adam Taurus. I have watched as all you struggled to build came crumbling down around you. I have watched as you have endured pain and suffering, and it broke my heart knowing I could not aid you.**

**I am like you, Adam. I have known pain unbearable by my peers, and through suffering I have sustained and survived.**

**I am not like you, Adam. I am not blessed or cursed with choice. Before the first dawn marvelled at by your people I was bound to the relic by the Gods, a memory of what was, a testament to their failure. I am bound by the inscrutable will of the Gods to my duty, and my chains have no regard to my desire. **

**So I watched you struggle, and could do nothing until now, when you sweetly called out my name.**

**My name is Dai, and I am the last of my kind.**


	4. Breakfasts of Champion

POV: "Revolution"

With 'Bedlam' asleep, Adam and his more recently produced twin paced slowly around the clearing keeping watch. The measure of their steps, the way they moved soundlessly through the grass, each motion so very much _Adam_ but strange to see taken by another body. The other being was not just like him, he _was _him. How was Adam supposed to deal with that? He wanted to ask questions of himself. The other him kept looking at Adam; he wanted to ask the same questions. For all that, he knew one thing about himself: he was a light sleeper. It was a trait that had kept him alive several times. Maybe the exhaustion would counter that a bit, but Adam was not going to rely on that.

Bedlam needed rest more than any of them after he had gone solo against the grimm in the cave, and if they were going to make it back to Mistral they would need to sleep off this nagging headache; since their bodies had been separated from one another the strain from indecision overload was fading, but it had still been three days since Adam had actually slept since he could not count his attempt at sleeping in that tree near Hazel's camp as proper sleep.

If having a conversation with himself threatened to be loud enough to wake himself up, then he would have to patiently postpone the conversation for later on.

Adam went to the edge of the clearing and began gathering some odd looking berries that they had seen earlier. He ate one. It was dry and tart. _Whatever doesn't kill me makes me stronger,_ Adam recited to himself.

Suddenly Adam stopped what he was doing and stood perfectly still. A low buzzing was coming from somewhere in the forest. It sounded familiar, and he tried to remember where he had heard it before. He looked at himself standing on the other side of the clearing and pointed at his ear, then the forest, relying on the sign-language he had been taught in the dust mines to indicate a potential threat.

The other Adam came closer and nodded, and together they tried to determine what the strange raspy sound was. They came to the answer together.

"Lancers," they whispered, the sound blending into the scraping of metal as each drew their forged signature red blade. They leapt back from the edge of the clearing and saw five of the child-sized insectoid grimm flying towards them, low under the branches with the sound of others following them. _If I use Wilt to shoot them down, Bedlam will just get woken up and we'll lose more time_, Adam thought bitterly, _guess its the hard_ _way._

Other Adam took out two with one swing while dodging out of the way of their tethered stingers and occupied another to prevent it from getting past; Adam rushed forward across the clearing to take out another two before they could disrupt the tranquility of Bedlam's rest. His twin finished off the last grimm and stowed his weapon in one motion.

If Adam liked one thing more than anything else so far, it was getting to watch himself work. His mastery of the blade had always been a source of pride to him, but never had he understood how _totally badass_ he looked while fighting. It was honestly like watching a masterwork piece of art.

[More coming], Adam signed to his twin.

[I hear]

The Adams watched the forest, trying to determine where the rest of the swarm was coming from and how many they faced.

Suddenly they realized that since they were both the same person they knew the same sign language. _That could be handy_, Adam thought, _it's been so long since I knew anyone else who used sign language_. He had not actually known many people other than his fellow Atlesian Ilia who knew even the basics of the signals while he was in the White Fang, and Ilia had learned the signs from her parents, not from her prep-school upbringing; even with his followers in Vale he had focused more on their martial skills and willingness to take risks for the cause than the skills he would label as more suited to clandestine operations. _The last time I actually used sign language on a regular basis was when I was kept by the SDC...when I was sent below to die with my brethren, disposable assets._

[Survive, then talk more], each Adam mirrored the motions of the other, struggling to remember the proper signs of the language. He was a bit rusty, but so was other Adam. He could probably get away with some incorrect gestures, because if he thought they were correct then so would his other selves.

The two faunus drew their swords and intercepted the swarm of wasp-like grimm. The monsters were now coming out at a steady stream from the woods, numbering a solid dozen now but thankfully focusing their attentions completely on the conscious members of their party.

"Good thing they're not making a _beeline_ for Bedlam!" stage-whispered his companion. It was a terrible pun. It was liable to wake up Bedlam. He was an idiot for saying it. Adam struggled to not break out into laughter, because if the pun hadn't woken himself up then laughter would.

Even as his twin sliced through them with ease, more came to replace them. While he watched out for the creatures' namesake stingers, his attention was taken by a shadow in the moon.

[Well there's the alpha] signalled Adam. The massive black and white hornet was only half the size of the lavel they had dealt with earlier that night. "You hold off the small, I will destroy the big ugly!"

His twin's look silently asked '_How are you going to do that without using Blush?_'

Adam lack of answer was because he wasn't sure he had one but he was willing to improvise; falling back to put himself (and his Wilt) between the queen lancer's barrage of spiked projectiles and the sleeping form of Bedlam. To his credit, Adam deflected every single one. As the last of the projectiles was blocked, an idea formed in Adam's mind. His brother turned his attention back to the swarm, since he would know what he would do in the situation against the queen and was content that Adam could pull it off unassisted.

The lancer queen thought that it was cunning, staying at range when all the Adams seemed to have were little red claws. So it kept firing its chitinous stingers, hoping to wear the faunus out. Grimm didn't need to sleep. They existed only to destroy. It could keep shooting a rain of projectiles at Adam indefinitely.

Adam Taurus needed sleep. Adam Taurus lived for something more precious than destruction. He lived for revenge, and this stupid thing dared to stand in his path against him.

It launched successive barrages, and Adam blocked another twenty stingers from hitting Bedlam's prone body. In the distance, he saw his twin keeping the small ones at bay, twisiting in midair as he dodged the spikes flying at him.

At the end of the day, a lancer was just an oversized fly. He deflected another three shots from the lancer. Adam felt the energy contained in Wilt, his semblance singing for release. _This should be enough to establish control of the situation_.

Adam's body flared with crimson radiance as he activated Moonslice, and the energy from the queen's volleys his blade had deflected surged up in a red crescent to hit the bug, taking off the wings of its left side. It hissed in rage as it spiraled gracelessly to the ground, impacting a tree and getting ridiculously tangled in a mess of vines and branches where the beast had little to protect it from his blade's journey as he sprinted forward to plunge Wilt through its multifaceted eye into its head. If it had a brain, then it did not anymore.

Yet even the death of their alpha did not stymie the approach of the retinue of smaller lancers, and it was still a solid minute of the Adams hacking and slashing before the last of the bugs was little more than smoke in the night air.

[So many grimm] Adam signed to his brother as they sat near their thankfully still-sleeping version, [why are they attracted].

[I am not sure] his twin replied in kind, [I feel happier now than I have in days, maybe months, with you two attending my other goals. If neither one of us is producing negative thoughts, then what is making them come for us].

The two of them both looked at the sleeping form of Bedlam. He did not know what he would look like if he was having a bad dream or nightmare, but he seemed peaceful enough. Adam thought about the mystery for a while as they resumed pacing around the clearing, then he went over to the dirt and with a pointed stick he made a circle with three tines rising out of it.

"You think the Relic of Choice is why they're coming after us, too?" his twin whispered softly, having to say it out loud since there was no word in sign language for 'Relic of Choice'. At least, none that Adam knew of. If he just pointed at his left hand's middle finger and made a circle with his other hand, that would be a phrase. Just not one that was used in polite company.

It had been used in the mines a lot.

[Yes], Adam replied.

[Old faunus maybe has answer in Mistral], his twin said, leaving Adam confused for a moment. His brother was clearly trying to mention someone they knew, but most of the people in Mistral he knew now were humans he hated or faunus who had betrayed him.

[School old faunus] the other Adam repeated, looking serious.

[School old faunus], Adam tried to follow; after a flash of insight he wrote 'Lion' in the dirt. His twin nodded.

If Lionheart didn't know what to do about having a grimm magnet tied to their shared aura, then Adam feared that nobody would. As headmaster of a huntsman academy, Lionheart was possibly the wisest and most intelligent faunus on Remnant. It was worth looking into whether he would be willing to help Adam. Adam wondered why Lionheart was on his twin's mind but not his; their minds were different so soon after the split.

[Are you coming with us to Mistral, or going to where big human ship was] Adam inquired. It took him a while to do, since he struggled with the sign for Mistral and did not have words for Hazel, Emerald or Mercury.

[Yes. Hazel in Mistral, can find him there if fast] other Adam responded, [otherwise will look for fire girl]. Adam did not need to think hard to figure out who that last bit referred to. _Hazel is easier to deal with than Cinder_, Adam conceded.

[Why was Cinder not with Hazel?] asked Adam, [what if Cinder died at Mistral? We know she has weakness, retreated from Vale, one of Blake's people]. Adam had invented his own sign for Blake, but his twin seemed to understand the made-up sign for what it represented.

Other-Adam shook his head side to side, weighing the possibilities, [Lionheart, next objective]. _Ah, so that is why he has Lionheart on his mind. We each know that Cinder had some connection to Lionheart, so it stands to reason that Lionheart has some connection to Cinder and Hazel's boss. Even if it is only one-way or coerced, Lionheart is a faunus and probably more willing than most to shelter and aid an Adam Taurus. Lionheart also plays into his twin's motivation to learn more about things like Cinder's dustless abilities and the whole relic business._

The other Adam picked up the chiselled stick and began drawing on the ground while Adam kept a lookout. After a few minutes the snap of his fingers alerted Adam to his twin's desire for his attention to what he had drawn. Written on the ground was a crude map of the area, showing their departure from Haven, their journey trailing Hazel away from the city, then their hasty trip back to the White Fang headquarters closer to the city. Beside that was written 'Hazel-Cinder-Lionheart'.

Adam gave a quick thumbs up to indicate agreement. That was his plan. [What is your plan], queried the twin.

Adam drew a picture of a boat on waves, then drew a picture of an airship with a cloud beside it. Beside those he wrote 'Vale', then did a quick attempt to do the White Fang logo in the dirt. His plan was a bit more straightforward and perhaps more difficult than his brothers'. He needed to get to Vale, which meant some sort of transportation, which meant blending in and not getting caught. The other was planning on hanging out with wanted criminals immediately while Bedlam just needed to stay out of Blake's sight.

Adam gazed at the drawing of the relic, then at the cessation of wisps of smoke drifting upwards from where the queen lancer's corpse had dissolved. He was tired of being forced to fight grimm and traitors; it was a waste of his talents and a diversion from his desire to kill humans. Each faunus and grimm he was forced to slay just made life easier for his true foes. He was thankful that the grimm had come for him during the night, so that few would notice the pillar of tell-tale grimm smoke and come to see who the hero was; knowing his spate of luck of late, a bunch of Menagerie militia would have seen it and come to 'help'.

Once they made it to Mistral things should be easier. Free of the distraction of grimm attracted to his relic, Adam would be free to pursue his path. Let any human who dares get in his way know fear. Once all three of his selves were rested, Adam Taurus would be unchallenged by anything the new dawn threw at him: for what does the future ruler of the world and his perfectly loyal brothers have to fear?

Absolutely nothing.

The Adams looked at each other and smiled. Knowing that their thoughts were aligned, they both signed [fear is for everyone else to have of us].

~J~

POV: Bedlam

'Bedlam' Adam rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes. The waning moon still hung brightly in the sky, which surprised him since he felt so well rested. _It cannot have been more than a few hours since I went to sleep_. He sat up and his brothers turned to regard him with their masked faces.

"Problems sleeping?" they asked him together, "too much adrenaline from the cave in our systems would do that."

"I am fine," Bedlam responded, "you two can take a break, I'm good to watch for a bit."

"Here, I found some berries over there. They don't seem poisonous," one of them said, handing him a large leaf with several withered purple berries on it. "They're not sweet or juicy but I ate a few an hour ago and I'm not dead yet."

"Or if you are, then the afterlife so far is much better than living. Much better company here," the other stated with a grin. Bedlam accepted the berries and tried one. They had not undersold them. They were awful berries that no self-respecting person would eat unless desperate like they were.

So they were a delicacy for a man raised on SDC mine-slave rations, a breakfast of champions.

The other two made themselves comfortable on the ground while Bedlam stood up, taking in the sounds of the twilight. Crickets chirped through the forest and fireflies blinked in the distance. "Did anything happen while I was asleep?"

"Some small lancers tried to sting him."

"Grimm that weak wouldn't attack anything more than a child, but they came at us anyway even after I dispatched their queen," added the second, before continuing, "we may have an issue with the relic attracting the creatures of grimm to us."

_Disturbing news, if accurate_. "Alright, sleep well my pretties. I'll keep us safe from the denizens of the forest." Adam did a quick stretch, which turned into a bit of a flex, "We have a lot of ground to cover when you wake up."

"Yeah, we were thinking that, too."

"Look on the ground," chuckled the other.

Bedlam looked at the ground and saw that they had drawn something in the dirt. Upon inspection, he realized they had drawn a perfectly accurate map of the area, showing their escape from Mistral, their departure from where Hazel had left Emerald and Mercury, their trip to the White Fang base, and some attempts to account for how much time they had. Beside that was Lionheart's name, images of what were clearly a plane beside a cloud and a boat in water, a depiction of the ring, the white fang emblem, and what appeared to be their attempts to come up with names for each other like they did for him. _Naming themselves after Wilt and Blush_? Adam thought to himself, _sort of makes me an awkward third wheel. Then again, I am 50% original Adam while they're each 25%. Does that make me the leader? If they expect me to tell them what to do, that's not what I'm about. I have my own Blake agenda to pursue! _Adam began to worry, but then realized that he was worrying over nothing: they were still him, and understood that his path led away from theirs.

"I'm still hopeful I can catch Hazel in Mistral, but if he's already taken off then I'll just keep looking for Cinder. Worst case scenario, if she's gone to ground I might be able to track down Lionheart."

"Lionheart? The old guy from the school we tried to blow up?"

"Yeah, he's the headmaster but Cinder seemed to have him under her thumb somehow. Maybe she showed up at his school with a box of money and a crate of dust? I figure he might be an ally to us, even if his ties to Cinder were mercenary. Faunus solidarity and all that."

"What if he's not?"

"Well, he still might know something about the ring and stuff. It might not hurt to try to research that."

"Ugh, you mean books and reading?" Bedlam sighed, "you know that's not our strong suit. Blake's the only person who ever tried to teach us that sort of thing, and even she knew our academic leanings went no further than literacy."

"Yeah, there is a reason we prefer calling people on the scroll rather than texting."

"So I'll get Lionheart to do the book-work for me." Adam said, drawing his Wilt, "I'm sure I can convince him. Somehow." He sheathed Wilt.

"What are you going to do? Walk into his office and demand he work for you?" Bedlam held in a laugh, "that's pretty bold of you. He's still a headmaster of a huntsman academy in his seat of power, I'm not sure that is a fight we want to walk into."

"Even if we're confident it is a fight we would walk out of." interjected the other Adam.

"I'd prefer to call it decisive action. I go into his office, get him to work for us, and if things go south I think I'm still faster than an old timer like that."

"Adams, I'm pretty sure the end result is that we're all heading to Mistral and you're both keeping me awake. Once we're done sleeping, we'll head into one of the outlying towns full of human racists and get a feel for the situation in the city. Maybe get some disguises or something."

Bedlam watched his brothers go to sleep. It was a nice feeling, having brothers that he could bounce ideas off of. Not like his comrades in the White Fang, masked in anonymity, relying on him to think of everything. Not like his coworkers in the SDC, enslaved and embittered. Not like muttering to himself in the woods like a lunatic, defeated and destitute. This was almost a real family like he had always imagined, the kind that anti-faunus prejudice had stripped him of before the time he was old enough to remember his parents faces. He'd thought his only chance of experiencing a true family would be to make one with Blake. The world had gotten in the way of that. Her reluctance and fear had gotten in the way of that, despite having told him that he didn't scare her. That his scar didn't make her flinch. She was scared of what he had to do to make the world safe and balance the scales of justice, not just for himself, or her, but for faunus everywhere.

He walked over to the edge of the clearing, still a bit groggy from just waking up.

Disguises. Masks. Blake had never worn a mask, she had never really agreed with what had to be done to free their people. She had too much of her father in her ideology, and too little of Adam in her.

For all that, he missed the way she had clung to him, hugged him after tough missions that always seemed to go wrong. She had seen his true face, the Adam behind the masks. When she rejected him, she had rejected all of him. Left him alone with nobody his peer. _Well, Sienna perhaps_, Adam thought sadly, _but even Sienna was too devoted to Ghira's unrealistic vision to see what has to be done for the good of the faunus._

He took off his mask and dropped it on the ground as he continued to stagger to the nearest tree. Just like Blake, he wasn't in the White Fang anymore. Not the version of him that he was, a version that would throw everything else aside to find Blake again.

He did not need her to stop being afraid. He just needed her to stop running away.

The night air bristled against his exposed facial scar and he winced. The pain helped focus him, woke up the last bits of his brain still clinging to sleep.

Disguises. Masks. He tore a strip of his silken shirt off and looked at it. He could just wear it as a blindfold to cover the brand on his eye. That could be his new look. His new disguise, now that the mask did not suit him any further. Dai's gift had certainly put blinders on him, so now he would move relentlessly forward now unfettered by what his new brothers were tasked with dealing with. Maybe it was his faunus trait, but being around others like himself had always been comforting and his present company just amplified that feeling.

Bedlam urinated in the woods, keeping his attention on his brothers and the edges of the clearing. _I'd never hear the end of it if a grimm got one of them because I had to piss_. After a minute, he made his way back to where they lay. He looked again at the map. Those were their plans, their futures. What was his plan? It sounded straightforward: get Blake. There was room for detail in the plan, and time to think about it while his brothers lay silently by the dead campfire. He moved to an adjacent patch of ground, unmarred by his brothers' written plans.

He grabbed a conveniently nearby stick and began drawing in the dirt to keep himself occupied; busywork to make sure he did not fall back asleep if this was just a short adrenaline burst. His mind always strayed to Blake; he thought of those quiet times when she taught him how to read and draw artistically, and how close they had been back then.

~J~

"So you decided to draw Blake," said Adam.

"Hey, it was a dull watch shift. You two slept for almost three hours! I wasn't going to just sit there like a gargoyle, I had to do something."

"So you decided to draw Blake," said the other Adam.

"I think it was as good a use of my time as what you two did while I was sleeping."

"You mean kept you from getting speared by lancers?"

"Why is she naked?" Adam asked.

"She's not naked!"

"A collar does not really count as clothing," the other Adam pointed out. He wasn't really wrong, so Bedlam ceded the point to him.

"I think we're all focusing on the wrong thing here. Did nobody else notice that we seem to require the same amount of sleep as before the splits, but divided by the bodies we have rather than for each body?" Bedlam intervened, trying to steer the conversation to something constructive.

"Dai did say something about the soul recharging last night when she first appeared, but we found that part a bit confusing. So I guess no matter how many bodies we have we only need seven hours or so of sleep between us to feel rested and recharge our aura."

"I recall she mentioned something along the lines of 'additional benefits' of the gift beyond just making permanent copies of me," Bedlam said, "I feel like this might be one of them?"

The Adams looked at each other. "Seems like it is."

"So what's with the blindfold? Want us to call you 'Ripped Shirt Adam' instead or something?"

"Hey, we're all pretty ripped." the other Adam quipped, ignored completely by the other two. They knew they were fit.

"You're the me who wants to stay in the White Fang. I just want to get Blake. Before you two went to sleep you said we needed disguises: well I can't really walk around with my brand showing and expect to not attract attention any less than walking around with a grimm mask. So I thought that a blindfold would be a way to ease our infiltration attempt."

"I'm keeping my mask. I won't wear it until I get back to Vale, but it's still important to my mission."

"Speaking of which, I'm the only one with an alias so far." Bedlam said, "how about you two? If we walk into town, I don't want to be shouting 'Hey Adam Taurus, wanted criminal and terrorist, come over here!' If word gets out about where I am, then Blake will just feel that much safer wherever she is. I want her to have no idea where I am or what I'm doing."

"You sure? Maybe if you went up to a wall and started painting tasteful erotica you'd blend right into regular society," an Adam remarked.

"How about Adam Tyrant? That's a word for a singular political leader. Adam Tyrus? I saw you two were thinking of just taking our weapons' names as your own but I feel like there are more than enough people who know what Wilt and Blush are called to make those red flags to anyone hunting for us," suggested Bedlam. "We could call him Tyr or something for short."

"I agree about the Blush and Wilt bit, but the word tyrant has negative connotations. We don't want to alienate our own people," the other Adam pointed at his copy, "I'm thinking that since his goal is to head to Vale to lead the faunus revolution and enslave humanity, he's a dominant version of me. A dom? Adom? Get it?"

"And you say I'm the weird one why, exactly?" Bedlam said while he shook his head, cringing slightly.

"Because you spent the night drawing a very precise drawing of Blake on her knees wearing nothing but a collar in the dirt." replied 'Adom', "plus we are more similar to each other than we are to you, by a couple of minutes. If that matters."

"The question was rhetorical."

"I had a good answer to it, though. Anyways, 'Adom' is not really that much different from our actual name, which could be a problem if anyone is suspicious of us. On paper it is different, but shouting out 'Hey Adom Taurus! In town works out the same way."

"Alright, then how about Dom?"

"Yeah, like a fetish thing! We could get you set up with a leather mask and some chains instead of a shirt for your disguise," the unnamed Adam chirped, preparing to continue before considering the way his closest twin's hand was twitching towards Wilt, "or Dominic, if you prefer?"

"Dominic is fine, I'll go with that. At least it is an actual name." Dominic conceded. "What about you, then, twin?"

His twin shrugged, "I don't feel right naming myself. You guys have to name me."

"Is that really necessary? We're all the same brain, we'd come up with the same thing."

"I just want to be able to have a name that I did not give myself."

"But it is you giving it! I'm you!"

"Semantics. We have different bodies, so it is sort of different."

"Hey, me and myself, can we focus?" interrupted Bedlam, "remember the story the old mole told us, about the ancient human king who kept a creature in a maze and fed his subjects to it when they disobeyed him?"

"Yeah, the minotaur legend. I loved that one, because everyone compared me to the beast." Dominic recalled. "Who else was able to get through the mines as quick as we could without getting lost? After we made it out alive after being left for dead, a few people said we were a minotaur-faunus...that's where we got our last name from."

_We just cut out the 'mino' and the 'faun',_ thought Bedlam, remembering their childhood shame of having no parents; how even Ilia had had that over him. _Giving myself a last name had been a poor attempt to keep people from bullying me about my background, but the name had stuck._

"Not like our parents were decent enough to abandon us with a last name." Dominic added.

"I would like to point out that it is important to note that that name was given to us by others, and not devised by me at the time," declared the un-renamed Adam.

"Well there was another part of that, where he made a big iron statue of a bull and cooked his enemies in it alive." Bedlam said, ignoring the unnamed clone's input, "they threw the people in the metal statue and lit a fire underneath it, and their screams came out the mouth of the statue like animal noises."

"Ah, I see where you're going with this." the Adam nodded, remembering the story now, "so I'm the big metal torture device, then? The metal bull?"

"Well, I mean your goal is to get back with Cinder who, let's face it, is all about fire. From the name, to the semblance, to her personality." Dominic said, "it is not a bad image I guess."

"What image? Cinder shoving people into my mouth and roasting me?"

"Plus you're goal is a bit more reckless, a bit more uncertain, more bold than either of us." Bedlam considered, "Dominic and I are dealing with things we know: the White Fang and Blake. You're the one dealing with the mysteries that are popping up like weeds in my life."

"So what would my name be?"

"Well, another word for bold and the name of the torture statue was Brazen," said Bedlam, "Or we could call you Braze? Your preference there, I guess."

"Either one works. I'll go with Brazen, I suppose." Brazen said as he got up. "Anyways, I guess I'll be the one to light a fire under our asses to get us moving." He waited for laughter, then continued without missing a beat when it didn't come, "we've got work to do and no excuse for just sitting around here twiddling our fingers, especially if those fingers have grimm magnets on them."

Dominic wiped a few stray bits out of his eyes and nodded in assent. Bedlam checked to make sure nothing was left at the campsite.

"Oh, by the way, since we knew sign language we all know sign language." Brazen suddenly mentioned to Bedlam.

"Yeah, it came in handy to talk without waking you up last night." Dominic added, "we figure it might be useful in the future, so don't be like us and forget you know it."

_Blake doesn't know sign language, though_, Bedlam thought. What use would it be to him in his pursuit of his love?

The three Adams began making their way towards the nearest of the agricultural villages that formed the periphery of Mistral city, optimistic for the progress they would have there in the pursuit of their diverging goals and thinking about how to best conceal their identities from the authorities. The blindfold was a start, but his outfit would need a complete makeover as well. Though he disliked having to give up the clothes that Blake had said he looked good in (which had made him use copies of the outfit to constitute his entire wardrobe for the past several years), it would be worth it if it meant getting her back to his side. Or getting back at her, like when he'd scarred her side at Beacon.

He would do so much for Blake. All she had to do was believe in him.

He would do so much to Blake. She had hurt him more than anyone ever had before.

She would have to choose which side of him she wanted to deal with. Shame she didn't have a magic ring.


	5. Tickets to Ride

Author's Note: Working towards that M-rating, as if I was not before

* * *

"You could try and claim that bounty on me, but there's three problems. First, the border to Atlas and thereby the SDC is closed, so you would never get the full money anytime soon. Typical of the SDC to avoid paying people for working for them," Dominic said, the mouth under his mask a thin smile after he finished responding to the humans' initial demand for him to throw down his weapons and come 'quiet-like, as an animal should'.

"Second, you're so far out of your league the situation is comical," stated Bedlam, stepping out into the roadside from the forest with Blush and Wilt drawn, the thin fabric of the blindfold not impeding his ability to fight or see whatsoever. He stood beside his brother.

"Wait, which one of them is the real one Henry?" called the heavyset man with the long moustache, "do you reckon we'd get twice the payout if we get 'em both?"

"I don't want to be _that_ guy who thinks all faunus look the same but I'm having actual issues telling these two apart mates!"

"Keep yer weapons steady boys, we're going to haul these faunus terrorists in for the bounty! We still outnumber the bastards six to two!" the human who was apparently named Henry ordered. He seemed overly confident in himself and his posse, but the Trio had heard them stomping along the road a mile away; they had backtracked a bit to set up the ambush. When armed and in a group, humans tended to think that nothing could challenge them: something about holding a weapon did that to their inferior brains.

"I'm the third reason." Brazen stated calmly as he finished sneaking around the humans and put his sword through the throat of the tall thin one at the back, who slumped to the ground listlessly. As the remainder of the posse spun around to address the new threat Brazen's siblings sprung forward, twin Blushes shooting in perfect alignment while their blades whirled forward to bludgeon separate targets. Moustache and Henry fell as the swords hit them forcefully in the chest, knocking each of them prone while the blades bounced back to their respective wielders. Another human's chest exploded from the impact of Dominic's barrage, their weak aura withstanding a single blast before shattering, while Bedlam's target had managed the presence of mind to focus his shimmering yellow aura against the bullets that kept him from dying like his comrade.

That was alright. Bedlam sliced at him with his returned sword, making the man's aura sputter and shatter away, leaving him open for Brazen to shoot him twice in the back of the knees. He made a delightful howl of pain as his upper body suddenly fell down, impaling his own dismembered shins with the jagged bones protruding from the bottom of his thighs. Dominic had gotten into a melee with the one who had been wielding the axe, easily avoiding her wide swings and chipping away at her aura like a fencer.

"If you lay down your weapons now, we'll take you in alive rather than dead!" the axe-wielder cried. Brazen assumed she had failed to notice that half her allies had already fallen to the trio, but she seemed to be overly confident in her own abilities. Perhaps she had a semblance that she felt could even the odds? If she had a semblance, it certainly had nothing to do with battlefield awareness.

Brazen disengaged 'Stumpy' and refocused his rifle on the woman. Dominic darted in and chipped at her aura again before leaping back a meter while the human began her tediously broadcasted swing. Brazen took the opportunity to fire four shots into her back, the last of which shattered the remains of her aura. _Whatever semblance you have, it won't work if you don't have any aura to fuel it_. Dominic shot him a deprecating frown, and Brazen knew that his brother felt that he had ruined the sport of his little duel. Brazen shot him back an annoyed shake of his head. _We don't have time to play Matador!_ _I have a burly giant to catch before he leaves Mistral!_

Bedlam was now engaged with Moustache and Henry, who had rolled onto their feet and started firing at him with their pistols. Bedlam deflected Henry's shots with Wilt while avoiding Moustache's flanking fire. Moustache, taking stock of the body count that the Adams had amassed in the span of a handful of seconds and seeing that Bedlam was charging at his leader, decided that discretion was preferable to valour and began running back the way they had come once his pistol ran out of ammunition. He passed within two meters of Brazen, and Brazen saw tears in the mans eyes as he struggled to justify his retreat to himself as a telltale squelching noise indicated Bedlam's sword being plunged into Henry's chest.

Dominic went and disarmed the woman of her ridiculously cumbersome axe; she found herself unarmed, defenceless and alone against the most wanted faunus in the kingdom. At which point she wisely offered her overdue surrender by throwing her hands up in the air and going very still.

Brazen calmly walked over to Stumpy and rammed Wilt through his neck to put an end to his blubbering.

"Are we taking prisoners?" asked Dominic, "or are we offering this wretched human her freedom in exchange for services?" He kept Wilt aimed at the woman, who had the presence of mind to not move anything other than her beating heart, lungs, and swallowing as the fragility of her existence set in. "Or are we going with option three?"

"You two deal with her. I'll be right back," Bedlam said. He dashed after the fleeing fat human, who despite his appearance had impressed Brazen with his speed: already he was a solid fifty meters away.

Bedlam caught up to him with ease.

The woman had tears streaming down her face as she listened to her fifth companion become a pin cushion for a red blade, but she was facing the wrong direction to actually watch it happen. Brazen thought that that was a shame, since it may have made intimidating information from her that much easier. _Or just reduced her to a blubbering mess_, he considered, but she she seemed to be somewhat battle seasoned. No doubt she had slain a fair number of petty grimm over the years. She had handled her axe almost as well as some of his dead lieutenants had used their weapons. _I'm not sure if that is a compliment_.

As Bedlam began walking calmly back to the rest, wiping his blade clean before restoring it to its sheath with a big smile on his face, Brazen moved forward and looked at the woman. She did not meet his gaze and found something fascinating to occupy her attention near her feet.

"So. You thought that the six of you, out on a nice stroll and suddenly crossing paths with Adam Taurus, would be enough to take me down?"

The woman said nothing.

"You thought that my crusade against humanity could be stopped by a bunch of poorly armed, badly trained...whatever you were?" Dominic asked rhetorically.

The woman said nothing.

"What were you doing out here before you decided to throw your lives away?"

The woman was silent for a moment, but then her eyes focused on Brazen. Then her eyes darted to Dominic's blade pointed at her, then back to Brazen. "There were reports of a grimm migration. They said migration, I don't know what it was. Some locals reported seeing grimm suddenly coming out this way en masse. Word spread that a swarm of lancers were in the middle of attacking a homestead when they just... they just left to come out here. So we were sent out to see why they would do that. We talked to the people from the homestead, then followed the direction the grimm had gone to scout it out. We were just scouting grimm. Henry was the one who was in put in charge by the mayor. Henry saw you coming down the road and recognized you and told us we'd be heroes. We all heard of what you did in Vale. What you tried to do in the city."

Brazen and Dominic exchanged glances. Brazen went to Henry's corpse and lifted a pair of binoculars off of it.

"Nobody's ever heard of the grimm retreating from a fight like that before. Not when they were winning, not when there were still people to kill," the woman added.

Bedlam returned to the group, [the relic responsible for that] he signed, indicating that he had heard the conversation.

[Sounds like the grimm came from all around to get me], Brazen returned with his own gestures. The woman looked terrified and confused, not knowing the form of communication. [So what do we do with her?]

"So what do we do with you now, _human_?" growled Dominic, bringing the blade a finger's length away from her sternum.

"Please, let me go. Don't kill me. I'll never be mean to faunus again! I wasn't mean to faunus before! I love faunus! I have faunus friends! Faunus are great! Just as good as humans!"

"Faunus are better than humans, you pathetic wretch." The sword was now a fingernail away from her skin, lighting gently upon the top of her blouse. Her attire revealed a generous amount of skin, more than most huntress outfits, glistening with sweat from the combat and tears as they spilled down her cheeks. "Take comfort that it is not my goal to exterminate your reprehensible species, but to repair the natural order of this world so that humans serve the faunus, the superior species."

Brazen interjected a new question, if only to head off what he knew would be a long rant about faunus superiority; every Adam present would love to wax poetic about their life goals when given the stage, but Dominic had the least time sensitive mission so he was more likely that Brazen or probably Bedlam to take that stage. _Now is not the time to be monologing to the human captive about our goals for world conquest, Dom!_ "What kind of grimm were you chasing?"

"All sorts, according to the reports," the woman replied, her eyes now firmly on the sword pointed at her chest, "beowolves, beringel, lancers, everything grimm in the region just abandoned whatever they were doing to go south this way."

"How far to the nearest town and what is its name?" Bedlam inquired, his tone sounding almost bored. They knew that there was a human settlement some distance down the road, but had never been there to deal with its rampant discrimination issues because to do so would have made it easier for the authorities to locate the White Fang's secret base. Still, an easy question to answer calmed the woman down and would make her feel better talking. Her eyes lifted away from the sword and focused on Bedlam, then darted between the three captors and the look in her eye spoke that she was confused as to how there were three identical faunus in front of her. _Letting her live to tell the tale about 'me' being 'us' is going to be a problem._

"Ilhari hamlet, just a few hours along the road and past the homestead I mentioned," she said, then after a moment she forgot her situation and pleaded, "don't go there. Turn around and leave Mistral, a monster like you doesn't deserve to live on the same soil as goodly honest people. We gave you Menagerie. You have full rights in Vacuo. Isn't that more than a murderer like you deserves?"

"Your people know nothing of what I deserve!" the trio shouted at her, and the blade sunk into her heart. Brazen pursed his lips, _hmmmm, perhaps that was not the best course of action_, Brazen thought. _On the other hand, we are not equipped to keep a human prisoner, and letting her go free would only give the government an idea of where he was. His mission might not be harmed if Cinder or Hazel knew where he was haunting, but Dom and Bedlam would have an easier time chasing their leads for a while if the group ran silent._

"But they will, if they live long enough to participate in our new world." Dominic said as he watched the woman slip silently to the ground as blood flowed in thin rivulets from her gaping mouth.

_It was for the best that it ended like this, _Brazen concluded, and the three of them nodded their heads. Their thoughts aligned on this.

"Well, at least we know the name of the town we're heading to," Bedlam quipped nonchalantly. "Might have been nice to ask what sort of defences they had left behind to come out on a walk into the woods like this, though."

Dominic cleaned his blade slowly, pondering their situation if his small pout was any indication. "We will go to that homestead first. We shall take clean, unsullied clothes from whoever resides there. Once our identity as Adam Taurus is suitably concealed from casual onlookers, we shall make our way into town and catch the train to Mistral proper, where our plans will progress as we discussed."

Brazen and Bedlam nodded along in agreement. It was a solid plan that they would have suggested themselves if Dominic hadn't taken the lead in the scene.

"What should we do with the bodies?" asked Bedlam.

Brazen and Dominic looked at him, attempting to regard their brother incredulously, for a moment that stretched into several. "Leave them for the animals, of course," they responded with as much indignation as they could muster, trying to appear stern while purposefully misinterpreting his concern as if it was for the bodies themselves, "these humans attacked me. It is not my responsibility to deal with their poor life choices. None of them were faunus."

Bedlam sighed, then kneeled beside Henry and began rifling through the corpse's many pockets, "I meant who is searching which for valuables."

Brazen and Dominic laughed, "we know what you meant." Brazen kept laughing, while Dominic continued, "just search whichever ones you finished off." With that, he started searching through the woman for anything that would be useful on their journey and Brazen made his way over to Stumpy. Brazen started assessing the clothes the men had worn. Tight pants that wouldn't fit, baggy shirts covered in blood... nothing useful for hiding his identity. _Well, I can't use these pants_, he thought as he looked at the slurry of bone and tendon soaking in blood that was once a knee.

"Ugh, yeah, that's a fine rule but I'm not the one who let lardbutt run all the way down the road," Bedlam complained. Brazen laughed; he certainly could have prevented the human from running past him. Bedlam gave him a frown before heading back down the path to search Moustache.

After a minute of searching it became apparent that the humans had decided not to fill their pockets with lien before heading out on a dangerous scouting mission against grimm. They did have a handful of granola bars and a water canteen each, which to the trio was more valuable. Once they had devoured the edibles and relieved their ever-present _thirst_ they began walking down the road once more, now fully fed, watered, and in possession of information and a set of binoculars.

~J~

It took them less than half an hour to get to the homestead. Walking through the gate of the homesteaders' property, which was a crossed sword design with the blades pointed down to the ground and a stylish crown above the gate with the name 'Shiko Farm' engraved on the crown, the Adams walked confidently to the house proper. All over the ground outside were signs of a grimm attack: gouges in the sides of buildings and so forth. There was also tire tracks in the dirt, probably from the owners' vehicle, but it was not present which indicated at least some of the survivors were not present.

The door had been locked, but Brazen managed to find a 'key'. It was in his boot. He kicked down the door. _This is my foot key, it lets me get into wherever I need to go_.

"Mistral police! Is anyone home?" Brazen shouted into the lobby. The three of them waited for a moment.

[Breaking down door, then calling out police?]

[Good job]

_I don't need to take this abuse_, Brazen thought. "Oh cheer up, I think we all knew we have the place to ourselves. Who leaves anyone behind after surviving a grimm attack?"

"The SDC," replied his brethren.

Brazen took off his mask and narrowed his eye at them.

_They're not wrong._

"Whatever," he walked into the house's kitchen, rolling his eye dramatically, "I'll check out the basement and you two go upstairs. Look for anything we can eat that isn't on the SDC's list for animal/faunus employee feed, also disguises and stuff. We won't be able to show off Wilt and Blush, either, so rig up something to tie it to your back so that we can use Wilt if we get in a scrap by launching it up along our neck." Brazen went downstairs to the cellar, which had a room with "Nadir's Nadir" on it. Inside was a bedroom for a young teenaged boy, with posters of human celebrities, weapon and SDC dust catalogues on a desk, and a few pamphlets for Haven on the floor. It seemed Adam had found the room of an aspiring huntsman. He would give the room the respect it was due.

He tore through everything in a search for clothes that fit him, lien, or valuables. After ten minutes of destructive rummaging, he walked back up the stairs to the kitchen in his new outfit. "You guys still alive upstairs or did you merge?"

"We're still working on his outfit!" one of them yelled. It occurred to Brazen that he had absolutely no idea which one of them had actually responded. He rifled through the fridge, taking out the elements of a garden salad which he began preparing for the three of them. _Maybe I should start talking with a sexy accent or something_. It seemed like a lot of work, though, and what kind of payoff was there other than for the rare occasion past their eventual divergence in Mistral to follow their assigned paths when they would actually be in contact with one another?

"What do you think?" Bedlam asked as he came down the stairs. He was wearing a large hoodie over his original clothes, with a new, better blindfold. His hood drawn up over his head to conceal his signature red hair and horns, it was as good a disguise as Brazen's had ended up being. Bedlam did a slow spin to show off his new appearance, before looking up and down Brazen, "never mind. I don't think either one of us know a single thing about fashion."

"What's wrong with my look?" Brazen retorted. He felt like the clothes he had acquired were more than suitable: a long flowing silk robe with a generous hood that covered his entire face.

"Are you sure those are... boys clothes?" Bedlam asked, "I mean, that is a really intricate floral design and seems to really cling to your body."

Since when was Adam ashamed of his own body? "The room I took these from seemed to belong to a teenaged huntsman wannabe. Why would he have girls clothing in his room? That doesn't make any sense at all."

"Whatever. It's not like we have Blake's sense of fashion to do this." Bedlam waved his hand, accepting their disguises as the best they could do with the resources they had at their disposal, "I mean, we pretty much wore one of three outfits for the past twelve years, whatever Blake liked seeing us in." Bedlam sat himself down at the table and grabbed a plate of salad, digging into the meal and silencing himself.

"Then I'm fine with leaving those clothes behind now that I'm done with her."

"Is there any coffee down there?" Dominic called from upstairs.

Brazen checked, and reported that there was.

"Bring me up a pot of hot water and some coffee grounds!" Brazen looked at Bedlam, who shrugged and kept eating. Brazen sighed and started heating up some water in a dirty pot.

"Give me a minute to do up the water." Brazen resigned himself to watching a pot of water boil. Bedlam finished his lunch when bubbles began forming on the bottom of the pot, at which point he went to the front door.

"I'll keep a lookout here."

Brazen took the pot of boiling water upstairs, where he found himself naked in the bathroom with clothes scattered all over the floor.

"Okay, so I found this hat," Dominic said, holding up a battered fedora, "to hide my horns, but my hair would still be red and I couldn't find another decently sized hoodie like Bedlam for hiding that. So I thought I'd just dye my hair! I remember hearing that coffee grounds mixed with hair shampoo can be..." Dominic stopped talking as his unmasked eyes trailed up and down Brazen.

"Are you sure those are... boys clothes?"

Brazen sighed. "No." He was going to count Dom and Bedlam as a single opinion on how he looked. "They were in a boy's room."

"Alright." responded Dominic, "and even if it sounds narcissistic, I want to say it shows off how nice a body we have."

_Like he's one to talk, sitting there naked in the bathroom with my muscles on full display_. "Here, hot water, coffee, do your thing and come down for lunch so we can get back on the road."

Dominic nodded, taking the ingredients for his cosmetic experiment. Brazen surveyed the remainder of the clothes in the room. One of their shirts had been cut into shreds; apparently Bedlam had taken Dominic's original shirt after making his blindfold out of his version. The fedora hat sat next to the sink, and a black trenchcoat was piled in the shower.

"So black pants, black hair, black leather trenchcoat, hat... are you sure you didn't want some tasteful chains? We could replace Wilt with a whip. Leather gimp mask?"

"I'm going to look cool! Plus there is one other part of it in the master bedroom I found that really ties it all together!"

"Ah, relax, I'm just messing with you. If I'd seen that sort of stuff I'd have grabbed it, too."

"Bedlam is still hung up on keeping his original clothes, something about an attachment to Blake."

"You guys will understand when she comes back with me! She'll see that I still value her, from her _masculine_ fashion choices to everything else about her, so that my offer to let her come crawling back to me is genuine!" Bedlam shouted up from downstairs, faunus hearing making private conversations difficult. Brazen and Dominic rolled their eyes; both of them shared a look that expressed that each did honestly hope that Bedlam was successful in his task, but Blake felt like a toxin that they had just had removed from their systems.

"You know, I always said I was saving myself for Blake."

"I didn't even look at any other girls since I met her all those years ago."

"I didn't look at anyone else that way."

"Maybe myself in the mirror." Brazen said, drawing closer to Dominic. "If only to make sure that I looked good enough for Blake."

"It was always about Blake," Dominic's words made a zephyr as they brushed past Brazen's ear, "but it isn't anymore. Not for the two of us up here."

Brazen realized how close they were. Physically. Mentally. He wondered how much closer they could be when they had separate bodies.

~J~

Bedlam waited in the doorway, keeping an eye and ear out for signs of trouble coming their way, but almost immediately became bored. It seemed like Brazen and Dom were going to be a while upstairs, so he considered wandering around the grounds. _May as well_, he reasoned, _if trouble comes for us, they have as good hearing as I if I shout out a warning from the lawn instead of the entrance way._

He moved to a small garden of flowers, which seemed to be an afterthought planted after space had been prioritized for the much larger tracts of vegetable plants. It was the infancy of autumn, and the area was full of ripe squash, tomatoes and bean vines. Fortunately for the inhabitants, it appeared that most of the damage to the farm had been directed to the dirt driveway, area in front of the property on the road, and the fence. _I wonder how many lancers they were able to defeat before the swarm sensed us_.

He plucked a tomato from its vine, and ate it.

It was sweet. It was juicy. Bedlam didn't care. Food was food, whether it was a delicious banquet set for the Schnee family or the dog food given to the children in the mines.

Bedlam stood there in the garden, surrounded by a pastoral paradise, and a tear moved unbidden down his cheek. Here he was in the midst of Remnant's natural beauty and it meant nothing to him. His thoughts always turned to Blake. _What would Blake think of this place? Would Blake like this salad? _

She was a curse that weighed down his soul, made his life intolerable. Because of Dai, he was now destined to be the same thing for her. It wasn't right. Nothing about their relationship as it was was healthy. _Why did she have to come into my life? I would have been better off if she had never approached me. I would have been better off if nobody had ever seen my face after I put on that mask. Blake ruined _everything _for me._

He had devoted himself to making the world safe for his people. For Blake. For himself. For the family he had hoped to make, avoiding the mistakes of his parents. He had not loved anyone but Blake. He had not even loved himself, in the way that hormone-ridden young boys sometimes do.

Everything he did was grounded in what had been done to him in the past. Each action was revenge for pain inflicted on him. His semblance was his shield: something that kept him from feeling the pain and let him enact justice on those who would hurt him. His semblance kept the pain away. His semblance kept the world away.

He looked at the garden around him.

His semblance kept **everything** away. His semblance dulled the pain. _Is it even possible for me to feel happiness, or would my semblance dull that, too?_ The thought frightened Bedlam. What if his tortured existence had been the byproduct of a subtle side-effect of his semblance?

Most regular people refused to unlock their aura. Huntsmen with powerful semblances would shake their heads at the civilians who refused to protect themselves. They did not understand the pain endured by those with negative semblances. Semblances like Blake's, which did nothing but encourage her to run and hide from life's problems rather than fighting for what she believes in. Semblances that could not be turned off. _All those times I unlocked a recruit's aura, telling them that it was what was best for the faunus. That their strength was needed in full to fight for those who could not. The White Fang was not a Huntsman Academy, but I made it force people to accept the risk of semblance like the arrogant humans I stood up against. I understand the hesitation to unlock aura. I understand the people who refused to even teach their children anything about aura, for fear of the burden. _

_He wondered if Sienna had understood what she was burdening him with when she unlocked his aura._

In all fairness to Moonslice, Adam had never considered his semblance a curse even though he knew that many semblances did make life wretched for their souls; sometimes the mere possession of a powerful semblance was curse enough, in the responsibility to serve the greater good it brought with it. Moonslice had always been a tool that let him serve the faunus, be the sword for their crusade against human cruelty. Why was he thinking about the toll it took on him now? Was it because of the relic? Did his focus on leading the White Fang keep his thoughts from considering what the cost had been to him as a person, dedicating himself to being the saviour of his species? Would his choice clones understand, or would their continued pursuit of retribution, contrary to his own search for resolution, blind them to the obvious truth of their shared sorrow?

_It's not even worth thinking about. My semblance is a part of me, and without it I would not have survived to be here today. Whatever didn't kill me has made me stronger. Whether or not I would have been happy with it locked is not productive course of thought. No faunus were happy in the employ of Jacques Schnee's SDC._

Bedlam waited in the garden, keeping an eye and ear out for signs of trouble coming their way.

_Without my semblance, I would have never met Blake. I would never be able to fix the world for her. Without Moonslice, I will never be able to force her back to my side where she belongs._

He took off his blindfold, wiped his face on the sleeve of his hoodie, and redid the covering. By the time his brothers emerged from the house, Dominic wearing a full black ensemble consisting of a trenchcoat, hat, dyed black hair, and a stylish eye-patch, Bedlam greeted them with a smile. "You finally about ready to go?" he complained, to which Brazen quipped that he had been "so hungry that he'd eaten food enough for three." Bedlam gave a laugh at the joke, which Dominic joined in on. The three of them left the homestead and walked down the road towards the human hamlet of Ilhari . Bedlam took point with the pair walking in stride a few meters back, side by side. Bedlam's eyes were dry, his mind was clear and his resolve was stoic.

His semblance dulled the pain.

~J~

Ilhari was a small walled settlement, little more than a palisade built around some general stores, service centres, a tavern for travellers and the train station for fast travel to the big city. Three patrols of armed human guards moved in pairs around the perimeter, with a few more stationed at the gate and the train station. Dominic knew this because he was in the process of buying a train ticket from the automated vending machine. Their appearance and bearing, on par with any group of seasoned professional huntsmen, had gotten them through the gate without so much as a second glance.

The fact that they had concealed their identical weapons on their backs also made the humans feel more at ease.

It's not like any of them were grimm, which seemed to be what the talk of the town was at the moment. The populace was curious about the strange activity that the scouting party had gone forth to investigate, but few were yet concerned about their return. Dominic had seen one small child at the gate that evaded the otherwise plenary disinterest, who had asked if they had seen his father on the road.

Dominic had deigned not to respond, but he knew the child would not see his father again. _When you fight, people get hurt_. Adam had declared war on humanity and he was willing to see the consequences of his handiwork. There would be many orphans on both sides before his revolution was finally over. He would save his guilt for the faunus who had to fall, never the humans.

"Tickets for three, Mistral City," Dominic stated as he entered the travel information to the terminal, "next train leaves in four hours, and goes out to Kuchinashi before making its way to Mistral, though that is still faster than walking back. Should we just wait here for the train to arrive?"

"That seems to be the safest course of action," said Brazen, who's hood-shadowed face turned to regard the nearest human guard. His hands moved as he spoke, [maybe a good time to buy supplies or get information].

"I'd like to go spend some time in town seeing what's for sale, brother," Bedlam chipped in, reading the signs. The trio withdrew from the train station, where they found a more agreeable lack of armed humans on watch.

"I am uncomfortable with this length of metal on my back." Brazen complained, out of earshot of locals.

"Deal with it," his brothers retorted under their breath, not that they were any more comfortable not having Wilt in its usual place at their hips. At least their clothes were a bit looser fitting; Brazen's fashion pick made it hard to not notice he had something stuffed down his leg from his back. Or maybe Dominic was an exceptional case? Maybe other people were not checking out Brazen's backside as much as he was. Bedlam's blindfolded gaze was searching through the surrounding stores. Suddenly Bedlam focused on Dominic.

"You okay back there Dominic?" real concern in his voice, "you're looking a bit flushed."

"Fine, I'm fine!" Dominic responded, loudly enough that a few passerby spared him a look.

Brazen turned around, too, "let's hit the tavern. Best place to hear local news." They made their way to the tavern, and Dominic kept his eyes off his closest twin.

It was a cliched plan, but the three heroes went to the local tavern dubiously named The Cracked Mug. Every corner was occupied by a figure draped in a dark cloak, weathered grey hands the only indication that there was a living being within the folds of the cloth, no doubt waiting for a party of naive imbeciles to enter looking for the beginnings of a grand quest. At the bar sat a skinny young adult human man who looked so drunk it was likely that he had not left his seat since seeing the attack on Haven, several days prior, covered by the news program playing on the tiny television suspended behind the bar. The grizzled bartender had the look of an ex-huntsman and gave the three newcomers a moment of scrutiny before returning his attention to cleaning a flagon with a filthy rag. A buxom human woman served the two occupied tables, three large men at each playing cards and enjoying drinks.

_If I was alone, I would sit at the bar_, Dominic thought. The three of them all took seats at the bar, Bedlam on one side of the drunk and Dominic on the other side as Brazen took the last spot adjacent Dominic.

"What'll you lot take?"

"Nothing too heavy, a light ale. We intend to be travelling in a few hours," Bedlam requested.

"Information and local gossip to appease our curiosity for the vapid or mundane, if there is any." _Hopefully something more tangible than 'the grimm are acting strange'_.

"No need for us to end up like this one," Bedlam gestured at the drunk between them, who didn't mind the new arrivals if he noticed them at all.

"Farsigan's harmless, in fact he's downright chipper." the bartender replied, "he owned a small mine out west, but business there couldn't compete with the SDC. He always blamed labour issues for his financial losses."

The drunk, Farsigan, began to giggle in a high pitch, "SDC ain't gon' be HIC gon' be doin' well in Mistral no more!"

The other four at the bar waited for a moment, only to be rewarded with the drunk's head falling unceremoniously to the wood surface beside his partially finished drink. The human was unconscious.

Shrugging, the bartender took it upon himself to finish his inebriated patron's elaboration upon the state of the SDC in the present political situation while fixing three flagons of ale for the newcomers; "since that group from Menagerie saved Haven Academy, a lot of well-to-do folks have put more support into faunus rights movements. Hell, I even took down that sign and am willing to let the animals drink at my bar now. With all that happening, the SDC can't bring in their not-slave-labour-but-as-close-as-legally-possible workers from Atlas to mine their claims here, so that puts them on pretty even footing with the local mining concerns. Even the smaller ones like Farsigan. Farsigan just got a loan from the bank to restart his mine: the claim was still his, but he had to shut the active operations down a year ago."

"I's lookin' fer new employees. Fair wages, faunus welcome, close to town!" Farsigan elucidated from his dignified position of resting his head in a small pool of his own sweat, vomit, and drool.

"I'm not looking for work," the three Adams said in unison, which earned them a raised eyebrow from the barkeeper as he handed them their drinks. He spent an extra moment looking at Brazen, before shrugging his shoulders and going back to grab another glass to clean with his filthy rag.

_If the local health inspector was a faunus, then his racist sign was probably the only thing protecting this place from being shut down_. A hole gnawed into the wall where it met the floor indicated the presence of a rodent infestation, and cockroaches were not absent from the liquor shelves behind the bartender.

"So what else is happening in town? We've heard enough about a spat of strange grimm activity, what else is going on around these parts?" Dominic inquired.

"Ah, you heard about the funny business with the grimm, eh? I reckon we're all so darn cheerful it forced them away." the man said, ignoring the tacit instruction to avoid talking about the grimm, "other than that, things have been nice and quiet here in Ilhari. Which is good, because our registered huntsmen both went missing last month on a mission. With the academy in shambles, I doubt we'll have anyone graduating to replace the loss in the near future. With that in mind, having the grimm retreat from our borders rather than taking advantage of a precarious situation is a sure blessing for us honest folk."

The Adams nodded, agreeing with the man's reasoning.

"I'm hopeful that the students who were about to go to Haven make it back to Mistral once their done training: those that are still looking for education are mostly heading to Shade Academy in Vacuo," he continued, shaking his head morosely at the thought of his people's protectors abandoning their country in its time of need, taking refuge in the territory of their erstwhile rival nation.

Mistral, a land of culture and law, was very much the opposite of Vacuo, a desert composed of brigands and an amalgamation of folks who didn't fit in anywhere else. _I always wanted to go to Vacuo_, Dominic thought, remembering long-abandoned plans to escape the SDC and make a new life for himself in the nation where anybody was accepted if they managed to survive the harsh desert. _That was before I was found by the White Fang, back when my criminal activities were firmly rooted in acquiring enough lien to get myself and my comrades out of Mantle. I would have done well in Vacuo. I survived the dust mines. I could handle a desert. At least I'd be out in the light all the time._

What he had heard of Vacuo had transformed the country into his idea of paradise: a place where the strong thrived, unencumbered by the horns on their head or the past they had lived. Always sunny. Always warm.

Bedlam and the bartender had started a conversation about the hamlet's plan to expand the palisade wall, make room for more houses for soldiers and businesses, to take advantage of the grimm's strange behaviour whilst the humans were able. Lay a stronger claim on the lands that had been lost to the grimm after the Great War.

"I bet there's many a faunus from the city that would be willing to move out here, if you make it known that there is equality to be found for them."

"Ah, that's a pretty liberal way of looking at things. I don't want to be all chummy with the animals, that's just not my way. I still remember growing up surrounded by war veterans who'd been savaged by the beasts in combat. I'll welcome their money, though. I'm sure the mayor is thinking along the same lines as you, boy."

Brazen hadn't said a word outside of affirming that he was not looking for work. _I think he realized at some point that he is wearing a girl's hooded kimono._ His brother was taking care to only drink when the bartender's attention was not anywhere near his end of the line, to better conceal his face. Dominic's focus turned to his drink.

_I had a dream of living by my wits and strength in Vacuo, a long time ago_, Dominic recalled, _when did that dream go away?_

Bedlam and the bartender were talking about the mayor, who Dominic overheard had been elected seven years ago and kept the position since without opposition to his authority. A capable bureaucrat, it seemed.

_I think my dream of fleeing to Vacuo ended the day I met Sienna. I think my dream died the moment she unlocked my aura, or maybe when I discovered Moonslice and saved Ghira's life during that skirmish with those humans_. The moment he had realized the power he had, Sienna had showered him in praise, convinced him that he had a responsibility to use it for the betterment of their people, that he was destined to be a hero. He had agreed. He had the power to make the humans pay for what they had done. He didn't deserve to be forced into living in squalor in the desert.

With power like his, he could deliver his people from bondage as their saviour.

With power like his, he would bring humanity to its knees as a member of the superior species.

With power like his, he deserved to rule his people, elevated above all others as their leader.

He deserved to rule everything, he deserved to be praised by everyone as their hero, and it was past time for him to start getting what he deserved. With the White Fang as his loyal army, he would take over the world and see his new dream made real.

The Vale Brotherhood would still be loyal to him. He was sure of it. Their zeal had been tested far more strenuously than their softer Mistral counterparts. The explosive-laden train, a suicide mission for many. Working with Torchwick, a blatant racist. Fighting alongside humans for a human cause, even if it mirrored their own modus operandi, for a human goal (whatever it had been). His people in Vale had suffered defeats and remained steadfast in their courage and conviction to see the job done. All he needed to do was make his way back to them to take the reins again. Then he would start his reign again.

He would need a new throne.

~J~

Three hours later the trio headed back to the train station. Brazen had taken some time buying some new clothes, which the attendant had believed were intended for either Bedlam or Dominic. Dominic sensed some measure of jealousy towards Brazen exhibited by the attendant's tone and posture. Maybe because she believed that the person in the feminine kimono had two handsome twins as accompaniment? Dominic had found the entire situation comical in its inherent ridiculousness.

Brazen was now dressed in a white cloak, much the same fashion as the ones worn by the mysterious corner-dwellers of the tavern; its lack of a 'mysterious' dark shaded dye meant that Brazen had scooped it out from the bargain bin.

Brazen shot Dominic and Bedlam a look, "don't worry, boys. I won't be giving out quests anytime soon." The three shared a chuckle before sitting down on some benches at the train station. Bedlam flashed their tickets to a guard, who proceeded to leave them alone.

The rails started vibrating, and they knew the train was getting close.

The looked at one another and shared the thought: _soon, we'll be back in Mistral_. _Excellent_.

_We have work to do_.

~J~

"What is this?"

**This is your front row seat to the rest of your lives, Adam.** Dai was smiling, her mouth a wall of stilettos.

Adam's mouth unsealed, he remained secured to a slab of green solid mist which was propped up at an angle so that he was forced to watch a pair of floating circles. Each one seemed to be like a television that was playing the view of one of his choice clones.

"What is this place? How am I here? Why am I here?"

**This is the confines of the Relic of Choice. It is my prison, or maybe my home. I think I would call it my domain.** The daemon flitted about freely, gliding through the mist on her bat wings. **You are here because I am attached to your aura, which allowed me to duplicate a little bit of it, infuse it with your charming personality, and bring it in here with me to keep me company.**

Adam, still restrained on the slate, waited for her to continue. She gracefully landed between him and the screens, which he noted were shaped like the relic itself: circular with three tines rising up from one side.

**As for the why of it, there are two answers to that. Firstly, you are still a single soul. When the last version of you expires, your soul has to carry on to what waits beyond, whatever that may be. The soul that will go forth into death will be you, and for that reason it must be aware of its entire time on Remnant. So you must be here to experience everything yourselves experience, so that when your time comes you are truly whole again. You did not need to be consciously watching and experiencing your lives as they happen, since like the merging function at the end of the paths you would get the same effect. However, the second point is that it is terribly boring in here. I was stuck in a dark basement for more than a century without anyone to amuse me.** **Solitude and isolation are difficult to cope with, sometimes. **She slid forward and ran her hand along Adam's bare chest, her face turning into a pout as she briefly recalled her detention in Ozpin's vault. **You seem like you are a lot more fun than the wizard, too.**

"So I just sit here and watch, waiting for death, keeping you company?" Adam asked, filing that mention of a wizard away for later.

**You can touch the screens if you promise to behave,** Dai cooed, her tongue extending out from her mouth like a snake's, quickly tasting the air in the small space that was between their bodies,** that will let you more fully experience each life. Existence being what it is here, you can experience them all without missing out on the others.**

"So I just remain here and watch, unable to do anything, effectively stuck between life and death?"

**No, no, no, **both of Dai's hands were now freely roaming in small circles on Adam's defined abdominal and pectoral muscles. **There is popcorn, too!** Dai brought up her leg, which held in its claw a red-and-white striped bucket of steaming popcorn slathered with butter and caramel. **Anything I can conceive I can create for us here. ****So with all that said, welcome to this place, Between Realms!**

Adam felt his restraints dissipate and regained control over his eyelids, as well as the rest of his body. His first act was to take his captor's hands in his (her grin widened) and quickly remove them from his toned stomach.

Dai pouted, but then her attention turned to the screens. **Let us see what you all get up to!**

_Well at least I won't be bored,_ Adam considered.

He grabbed a handful of popcorn and ate it.

_It is sweet. It is crunchy. It is delicious!_ Adam savoured the taste. He enjoyed it thoroughly, more than he had when he had eaten the same snack a month prior, which it occurred to him must have been how Dai knew of popcorn at all, acting as a phantasmal voyeur on his senses.

Dai summoned comfy green chairs for them; Adam settled into one. It seemed like he would have time to explore his situation and was in no present danger. He consigned himself to watching himselves go about their chosen paths. Dai increased the size of the screens, and though Adam had never been to one he felt like he was in a movie theatre.

He reached for more popcorn, where his hand grazed Dai's as she did the same.


	6. Railing Against the Odds

Disclaimer: The author of this chapter would like to express their full support of the railway industry, and does not condone violence against such companies' employees or property. This is a work of fiction. The subject matter contained in this writing is not based on any negative real-life train experience. Any resemblance of the characters of this chapter to real persons is unintentional and coincidental.

* * *

DOMINIC

The rails groaned under the weight of the train as it slid into a stop. Men leapt to work, some having been aboard the train and some waiting for its arrival on the platform, removing supplies from cargo cars. On the other side, a similar situation took place in reverse as labourers put the raw materials harvested from the region aboard the emptying cargo cars. Finished products coming out to the backwater hamlet, fresh resources going into the city. Not an SDC logo in sight.

Dominic and his brothers kept their distance, melding into the sparse group of people waiting to get seated on the single passenger car unit of the train. None of the prospective passengers appeared to be heavily armed, although Dominic included himself in that assessment. _That doesn't mean nobody else on this platform has concealed weapons as well_. _Or possessed of dangerous semblances_. His brothers, in their hoods, kept their faces in shadow, limiting their ability to watch the proceedings. Not a problem for Adam Taurus, of course, who had long ago honed his other senses before his branding had ruined his left eye. The SDC's lighting bill was a minimal expense for the company, forcing the young faunus to adapt to a life in the shadows.

A stately looking train employee with a balding head followed the last of the passengers off the train before shouting at high volume, "Mistral Train! All aboard for Mistral! Present tickets as you board! Mistral!" Dominic ended up seated at the front of the car with the window to his left, while Bedlam and Brazen sat in the seats of the row behind him. He was cut off from himselves by the train manufacturer's decision to make two seats on either side of the aisle rather than providing passengers with cozy cabins as found on trains intended to travel further distances.

Unavoidable really, something that he would have to get used to sooner rather than later. The past day together had been... the past day had been one of the nicest in Adam's life, and it felt like it had been so much longer, but eventually it would have to end. They would leave one another to follow the goals they were created to pursue, the goals that their other selves were depending on them to see completed as only Adam Taurus was able to do.

Since there were more seats than passengers getting aboard at Ilhari, Dominic was blessedly not forced to deal with some random stranger during the trip to Kuchinashi, so his makeshift disguise was not tested beyond having to endure the scowls of the humans who passed by him. In fact, most of the other passengers seemed to congregate at the other end of the train from him. Maybe they knew some local custom he was unaware of, like that it was considered courtesy for earlier passengers to take the back seats so that new passengers did not have to walk over the excess luggage they left in the aisle. The train needed some sort of overhead luggage compartment. The train needed a lot of things, in Adam's opinion.

He had blown up trains and left them looking nicer than this one.

_Why are the humans scowling at me when they pass by? I've not done anything to them... today... yet._

Despite its lack of conveniences and storage, the train managed to still be a moving platform which transported him and his clones quickly back towards Mistral, so Dominic relaxed his anxiety and watched the countryside begin to blur by.

The silence in the seat behind him brought him out of his reverie, "you two are awful silent back there."

"Oh, we're just considering our plans in detail for Mistral," one of them responded. _Ah, so they're using sign language behind my back. That's fair._ Dominic returned to watching the view. _No sense in letting any of the humans in the back of the car overhear our plots, and their courses require locating people rather than a means to get to Vale, so coordination betwixt them is only natural._ Dominic barely felt left-out at all.

It was not like he was a closer clone to Brazen than Bedlam was or anything. He was not jealous of himselves because he had to sit alone.

That would be petty.

His lack of seating partner-based distractions and overall boredom ensured he was the first one to notice the jet black wings of the nevermore that rose out of the forest to fly along parallel to the railroad. Dominic shifted in his seat to make sure Wilt was accessible from where it was on his back, barely concealed by the upturned collar of his trenchcoat; the handle sat awkwardly between his neck and the seat when his body was not turned sideways to look out the window with his uncovered eye. He checked his scroll, calmly waiting for it to turn on before ensuring that his aura was at 100%. Dominic had no doubt about what the small avian monster was drawn inexorably towards. The train kept on at a steady pace, no alarm or concern noticeable. It was just a single black dot on the horizon.

Adam might have done things that caused a variety of regrets in his life, he may have made many mistakes, but there was one thing above all else that he would always be thankful for.

A second dot joined the first, flapping with energy borne from the need to destroy.

Even if Adam accomplished nothing else in life, he would be able to consider himself better than those that made one inexcusably ridiculous error of judgment.

A third dot joined the other two, coasting over the summer-green treeline.

Dominic rubbed the middle finger on his left hand. He only felt the glove over his flesh.

Seven dots now, all parallel.

Adam would never have to regret having been stupid enough to operate a railroad company on Remnant.

Damn things were cursed.

~J~

BRAZEN

Their brief stop at the more impressive town of Kuchinashi was made aggravating for the trio of wanted terrorists by the slight edge of panic among the humans. Nobody wasted time checking identification cards, few showed any concern about anything more than getting aboard the train in the hopes of it departing with enough speed to outrun the now-massive blot of nevermores that had slowly aggregated beside the train as it sped through the Mistral woodlands from Ilhari. Brazen hadn't seen so many grimm in a single place since Beacon. The town was at full alert: armed human soldiers watched with trepidation as the sky was filled with monsters.

The monsters circled high over the town, their wings scraping along the bellies of the lowest clouds.

They were waiting, not in a full frenzy like last night when the relic had been used, yet the grimm were inexplicably drawn to Adam's aura; the grimm birds seemingly retained some measure of cunning and concern for their own existence and would not attack the town immediately. They wanted the relic, but knew that attacking the town was too large a risk.

But the locals didn't know what the grimm were thinking. With a mass of grimm in the sky, price-inflated tickets quickly sold out for the train even after an additional five cars were attached (a process that took ten minutes in and of itself, to Adam's chagrin). The cargo dutifully loaded in Ilhari was dumped unceremoniously on the platform and turned into additional space for terrified non-combatants desperate to get away from the impending mayhem.

In the chaos, the seats occupied by three adult males were viewed with envy by those who had struggled to get aboard. He had firmly refused an attendant's request that he relinquish his seat to "the women and children of Kuchinashi".

The time spent attaching additional passenger cars gave Brazen time to think about his goal. His understanding of why the grimm were suddenly coming out of the woodwork did little to comfort him._ A little knowledge is a dangerous thing._ When the birds came, they would not have the protection of the town's armed guards to buffer the onslaught. If he got off the train and waited for the birds to decide to attack the town, he would lose his chance to get back in contact with Hazel._ Who is so much easier to work with than Cinder ever was_. On the platform outside, he saw soldiers ensuring that priority boarding was given to women and children.

Fools. Gallant fools. They thought the train would speed their weakest from danger. This train is going to see the worst of what is coming as long as Adam was onboard, and onboard he would remain. Getting to the city fast would save the most faunus: his alliance with Cinder's master, his goal of learning more of the secrets of Remnant, would protect the faunus more reliably than the chivalrous action of helping to defend the human settlement and whatever disparate faunus scavenged at its edges today.

Brazen looked up at the sky, peering over Bedlam's shoulder. _Why had they decided to have the Adam with a blindfold take the window seat?_ The birds were flying too quickly to count easily, but he estimated at least a hundred small nevermores in the sky. Fodder, but in quantities that large they would pose a threat to the town due to their quickness and mobility. Those were just the grimm he could see from his seat on a train in the middle of town; certainly by now any terrestrial grimm had closed in as well: if not drawn to the relic than to the fear of the people created by the flock. Brazen weighed his chances of being able to fight them on his own, before catching himself: Brazen weighed his chances of fighting them off with his brothers' aid.

_If I told the townsfolk that the grimm are after my aura, would they detach the train to get me away from town faster?_ He pondered the idea, _doubtful. They'd just toss me out the gates and watch in the hope that after having their way with me the surviving party would just leave their settlement alone. _He didn't owe these people anything, so why should he go out of his way to protect them? _If I go telling the train workers that if they give me a private shuttle at full speed from their wretched town it will protect them from the grimm, they'll just think I'm a coward who wants to ensure my own survival._

A nevermore alpha circled the town, low above the treeline. It let out constant screeches, making him wonder if the birds communicated vocally.

[The alpha is largest problem], Dominic signed to him from the seat ahead as he sat backwards in a kneeling posture. A small girl with brown curly hair was seated next to him now, though she was demure enough to not be an irritant to their communication. Other passengers, all of which Brazen had quickly noted without surprise were humans as they passed by his seat, adorned with expensive jewellery, shot the trio deprecating scowls. _They imagine me a coward, discourteous for not relinquishing my seats to one like them_. [Little ones will distract, alpha kills]

[Head of the beast], Brazen replied. _If we kill the alpha, the rest will become weaker and disorganized. Rabble, easier to deal with by intelligent opponents._

[Like the White Fang], Dominic signed, demonstrating that their thoughts were still well in sync with one another despite spending most of a day in separate bodies.

Brazen nodded. Bedlam payed minimal attention to the conversation.

After the passenger car had been filled to capacity and the doors sealed, one of the women nearby seemed to find some nerve and stood up to tower over them before laying into Dominic, who was clearly male and dressed like a huntsman-wannabe. "How can you just sit there like that, stinking up the entire car with your rank odour, playing with your hands, when your seats could hold more innocent souls like hers?" gesturing to the small curly-haired girl as she spoke; the child seemed to resent being used as a conversation piece, and tried to be melt into the firm material of her seat to evade further objectification.

_Oh, right._ Brazen thought, _I haven't really bathed in... when was the attack on Haven? _His nose must have just acclimated to the smell after a few days running through the forest. _That explains why everyone had been sitting at the back of the train before we rolled into town._

Brazen felt no shame about it.

Dominic sat back down in his seat and turned his head to regard the vehement creature, but said nothing. His mouth was a thin line that gave away no emotion, and the side visible to Brazen was concealed by his eye-patch. Brazen kept his gaze at the back of the little girl's seat while Bedlam continued to look out their window, his blindfolded sight not hindering him from hearing the grimm alpha making another pass around the section of town; its screech made the nearby humans shudder with primordial terror.

"Monsters descending upon the town, preparing to wipe out yet another bastion of civilization! We've lost so many settlements in the past decade already! Kuroyuri! Shion! If your vision has already been ruined why take up the spot of someone who can still be a productive member of society? Maybe you'd take out some grimm if you stayed. Maybe that would make the difference! Yet you would condemn those healthy innocents with so much potential!" She gestured to the throng of people beyond the window clamouring to board the train, pushing and shoving against one another on the platform.

"A bastion of **human** civilization."

The woman's face turned from an angry scowl to a disgusted grimace, now directed at Brazen.

_Oh._

_I said that out loud. Or did Dom and I say it together?_

"I guess faunus have to live in Menagerie to have decent character, after all," she sneered, "or to know how to clean the stench off themselves so as not to subject everyone within a city block to the gagging stench clinging to-" the train lurched and began moving forward, causing the woman to stumble in the aisle. After regaining her equilibrium she spun about and sat her pompous butt back in her seat, her eyes shooting daggers at the trio. Murmurs rose up from the rest of the crowd, which faunus hearing let the Adams know that they were not the most popular patrons aboard. The woman's tirade had not been a private conversation, even by human standards.

His faunus hearing also let him hear the forlorn cries of dismay from those left on the platform, and the shouts of the crew in the locomotive ahead of their car. Apparently they were going to try to give it "all they've got" to make their way to Mistral, in the hopes of alerting the Council to send aerially transported military support to the threat.

"**Passengers, this is your conductor speaking. We will be diverting all power to speed, ensuring that our precious cargo, you, will arrive safely in Mistral City. For your own safety and for the safety of those around you, please remain seated until the train comes to a complete and total stop."**

"You have a big tail," whispered the little girl beside Dominic as the speakers went silent.

"And you, little one, must save a lot of money on shoes." Dominic indiscreetly patted the girl on the head. Brazen tried to recall what the girl in front of Bedlam's seat looked like, but he had paid more attention to those going past him.

[Hooves], Bedlam supplied. Apparently he had been taking in the scene after all. Or his seat had a better view of the girl's feet.

"Momma is still in the station. She told me to go first. Daddy's on the wall. Daddy has a gun for work. You smell like the men in the gutter after they go to the bar that I see on the way to school, but also like daddy's gun. Is Daddy going to be okay?"

"I guarantee that your mother and father will be more worried about your safety today. You have to be strong for them, now." Brazen was not sure whether or not he should be relieved that at least some faunus were being given the chance to board the train when it seemed like the only way to stay safe, or concerned that the victims of the beasts lured in by his aura would not be solely human.

"Momma's a faunus, too, though. They wouldn't let her on the train. They listen to Daddy because he has no animal parts, but he wasn't there to tell them to let Momma on." _So her father is human? Slightly atypical, despite such pairings not being impractical._

The train whisked through the gates of town, opened to let the train pass through. Brazen rolled his eyes at the futility of the wall against winged terrors. _Fighting the grimm is often as much about creating the sense of safety as it is creating actual defences._

Dominic and Bedlam looked up at the sky and made '_tsssk'_ sounds of displeasure. Brazen mirrored the action and saw for himself the black blob in the sky begin to shift to pursue them. Even if the town sent the train a message to warn them of the change in the grimm behaviour, the creatures were now between the vehicle and the meagre shield offered by the town's militia. They were alone in the wilderness, all the passengers' hope lay in outrunning the things chasing them. _Full steam ahead, Mr Conductor,_ _all these people depend on you!_ Brazen thought to himself darkly.

The alpha burst back out of the foliage a mere five hundred or so meters from where the Adams sat, screeching loudly. That was enough to warrant the attention of the passengers, who handled it as well as a train of aura-less non-combatants could be expected to.

_Shrill_, Brazen thought. _That's the word for this. It is loud and shrill and making me regret _so much _being on this vehicle and having faunus hearing_.

The little girl began to cry, her body shaking as she sobbed.

Dominic rubbed his neck, running his fingers along the hilt of his "tail".

~J~

Whosoever had designed the railway's route deserved some praise: the lack of twists and hills allowed the engineers to literally burn as much fuel as they could to increase the train's speed to phenomenal speeds without concern for flying off the tracks. While inertia did little to endanger the train, the passengers found themselves pressed into their seats from the force.

Wilt and Blush jabbed into his back, somewhat painfully but Adam was accustomed to the sensation after twenty-some years of living.

The little faunus girl beside Dominic continued to cry softly, commendably less noisy than many aboard the car. Brazen wondered how bad those who had taken refuge in the freight car were faring. They had already been packed in like sardines without seating, now they were probably relating to grapes being pressed into wine.

Small nevermores had managed to catch up before they had reached their current velocity and clung to the train, their talons gripping the metal and struggling not to be torn off. The alpha had faded into the distance, and Brazen started feeling like the train might actually make it to Mistral city without further issue. It would be so nice to make some progress on his desire to track down Hazel.

Then the train began slowing down. Were they approaching the city so soon?

Brazen leaned over his brother and looked along the side of the train. The nevermores, clinging to the side of the car like barnacles on a boat's hull, had spread their wings open in tandem to increase drag on the train. Singularly they did little to impede the motion of the train, but by the dozen? By the hundred?

_Clever trash._

"What do you mean the idiots threw out the raw fuel crystals to make room for more passengers!" someone shouted at someone else in the front of the train. Amid the din of the passenger car's occupants' worried muttering, Brazen doubted that anyone heard the shouting save for himselves. And perhaps the child, but her emotional state could not get much worse.

There was a response to the shout, but at a lower decibel that prevented Adams from hearing it.

"Well that would have been a jolly-fucking-nice thing to have known before we dumped all the regular route fuel into the firebox! This engine is meant to burnt slow and efficient, not hard and fast, but I figured we still had the dust culm we took on at Ilhari!"

Another response, too soft for Brazen to hear. In any event, it seemed like fate wouldn't let him escape the monsters at his heels so easily.

"Well it wouldn't matter that the bloody things are acting as parachutes, slowing us down, if we still had the fuel we should have had tucked away!"

"We had to dump it to take on more passengers! We were the only way out of town!" responded the second voice hotly. _At least the man's heart had been in the right place, _Brazen thought. He blamed human incompetence for what seemed to quickly be turning into yet another train disaster.

_Man, what is it about me and trains that just always leads to this sort of situation? In another reality, a worse-off Adam Taurus is an impoverished railroad operator and dreams of living my life._

He looked to his left, and saw Bedlam's hand tighten into a fist. Brazen felt the satchel of dust tied to his waist and began strategizing how to use it on the mass of grimm that would descend upon them. Chucking it at the alpha and discharging Blush to explode it all at once seemed like it might be a quick win, but he wondered if the strategy would work better on the smaller ones. Choices, choices.

"I need to get up for a minute, child," said Dominic softly so that only faunus could hear. The little girl obliged, neatly tucking her legs underneath her, and Dominic stood up in aisle and moved to the door to the engine room. The steward blustered at him to sit down, that the train would begin accelerating again shortly and that the passengers had nothing to fear.

Dominic hit him with a quick strike, his elbow connecting with the balding human's gut. Surprised by the blow, the man bent over and made an easy target for Dom's follow-up blow to the back of his head. The physical assault silenced the entire car, which was now quiet save for the distant cawing of the alpha nevermore and the metallic screeching of the wheels against the rails.

Brazen chose to follow his clone, but Dominic had already moved through the connecting compartment where he opened the adjoining door to the engine room. Brazen vaulted over the unconscious body of the steward.

"Who're you, then?" a man wearing a stereotypical conductors striped-hat and holding a walking stick aggressively against a man prostrate at his feet (presumably the coworker who had indicated a fuel issue) asked, clearly bewildered by the intrusion while his face was still red from anger towards his subordinate.

Dominic tossed the man a satchel that Brazen knew held the same amount of dust as his own.

"We need that more than the humans do!" Brazen shouted, condemning the sudden charity of his clone.

[White Fang protects faunus] Dominic motioned, [will not abandon girl].

_Human-loving bastard, he's going to do it like that, then?_ Dominic opened the door of the train and the wind whisked away his hat and blew his hair upwards. _Of course in the wind he looks even more bad-ass_. Without any further explanation, Dom climbed aboard the exterior of the slowing train to make a stand against the grimm until the train could outpace them again.

Brazen looked back at Bedlam. Bedlam shrugged. [I have no dust], he signed. He looked up and grinned, [or concern about life minus the three of us on this train, but his life is his own].

Brazen found himself between the two, both physically and emotionally. He did not want to die for humans. He did not need to save the few faunus that had managed to get passage on the train, when his mission would better the lives of all faunus. He did not want Dominic to die up there. He just wanted to find Hazel in the city before the burly human escaped back to his waiting airship, forcing Brazen to go back to Cinder. Or Lionheart.

[Come up with us], he beseeched Bedlam.

Bedlam did not move.

_How does a man wearing a blindfold manage to still roll his eyes?_

"I'll help clear those things off the outside of the train, you get it moving fast again." Brazen stated to the conductor and engineer. "Don't waste time, and check the rest of the passengers for any more dust before you run out again." He tossed his satchel of dust to the conductor. He seriously doubted that anyone had been packing as much dust as Dominic and himself had been holding on a train fleeing an apparent battleground; most dust probably would have been confiscated or given willingly to Kuchinashi's defenders. Still, any bit might mean the difference between Dominic's strangely noble gesture being worth something and it just being a prolonging of the inevitable death of all aboard. Brazen stuck his head out the door and estimated the train was moving at a mere 30 klicks, not even half the speed they had been at to keep some distance from the grimm prior to the clinging nevermore's little trick, and decelerating quickly.

"How long to the city?" Brazen asked, his tone belying his recalcitrance at being drawn into the debacle by Dominic's blossoming hero complex.

"If we weren't slowing down, we would have made it in a quarter hour," reported the engineer hastily as he passed by to extort more dust from the rest of the passengers, "but without fuel we would have come to a stop in ten, still far from the tunnel into the city. If he doesn't mismanage that and the birds get removed from the hull, we should be there in thirty or so minutes. The engine is not designed to process raw dust crystals like those, it is supposed to use byproduct dust culm, but raw dust will still work well enough to get us to the city. Engine will probably need to be replaced afterwards. They'll probably fire me for this, or take the repair costs out of my pay." The engineer grumbled, then turned his full attention to pleading with the frightened passengers for extra energy crystals "to ensure our timely escape from the pursuing grimm."

Brazen looked at the sun, hanging low in the sky. He climbed up onto the roof of the train and saw Dominic's silhouette walking calmly along the top to the back of the tethered cars.

The smaller nevermores that had clung to the train had begun to notice the train was slowing down, some began unlatching their talons' grip to fly up over the train; squawking in a cacophony as they watched the faunus moving along the metal roof while others caught up to the train to join their raucous flight. They were young, but nevermores were cleverer than many other grimm. Brazen was certain now that they were communicating with one another, formulating a plan of attack. With the alpha still working on catching up enough to perceive the pair of Adams, the wretched beasts lacked stimulus to follow a singular strategy to assault the interloping faunus. Their job was to just hinder the train until their elder could catch up to finish the train off.

"You're going to get us killed with stunts like this!" Brazen shouted. "We can just use the emotions of the passengers to mask our escape! None of us have to die here today, Dom!"

His brother regarded Brazen cheerlessly, having heard his voice shouting over the din, before turning around again to continue towards the back of the train. Dominic lifted his arm with only the finger that they had worn the relic on raised upwards.

While the gesture had a well-documented universal profane meaning, Brazen understood that for the three Adams it held a hidden second meaning.

[_Make your choice. I've made mine._]

~J~

DOMINIC

After flipping off Brazen, who seemed hesitant to defend the train despite the evidence of helpless faunus passengers within, Dominic moved to the side of the train and began clearing off those wily grimm who had slowed the train down. Blush's retorts echoed through the surrounding woods, reverberating and resounding back until his quick rate of fire made the din of a machine-gun.

_I could abandon this train like Brazen and Bedlam would suggest, but it would go against what I believe in. Leading the faunus to protect the faunus who cannot defend themselves. How could I deserve to take back leadership in Vale if I tossed those ideals aside here today? Plus, this might be good publicity for me. Restoring my image as a hero of the faunus, rather than a renegade bent on revenge. The fiasco at Haven may have ruined my reputation, but that does not mean it is beyond restoration if I set my mind to it._

The beasts clued in quick to what he was doing, and before long the sides of the train were clear. Brazen even started to help towards the end, when the birds tried to maintain their stranglehold on parts of the train opposite from where he could shoot. The two of them managed to scare the birds all up into the air.

The train stopped decelerating, but they had not won yet.

The alpha nevermore was not impressed in the renewed motion of its target: it began screaming orders to its minions, who began flowing down in droves to attack the faunus twins. Fighting back-to-back like in the cave the night before, their Wilts formed a blurred red decimating whirlwind that tore apart dozens of the creatures.

A dozen came at the pair from the west, using the dissipating smoke of their comrades to conceal their approach. Never relying on sight, Blushes' shots continued to find their marks unerringly.

Twenty dived at them from above while others attempted to distract the brothers by flying around them just out of reach of Wilt. Dominic swung Brazen around like a dancer while he fired his rifle up at the attacking force; Brazen's red blade kept the distracting grimm at bay.

They fired their small, dart-like feathers at the pair, but they deflected the flurry of splinters with their swords. "There's not enough force in these little one's feathers to charge Moonslice!" Dominic called out, and they realized that the feathers had been a diversion from a group of nevermores that had crawled down along the side of the train to crawl up from the space between cars to try to get them by surprise. Taurus' ears had heard their talons scuffing along the metal, though, and Dominic had been ready to meet their feint's purpose with Wilt.

Their rifles kept firing. At one point he could not even tell which muzzle retorts were from his gun or from Brazen's; it was almost like there were dozens of Blushes firing off into the enemy because of the acoustics of the thick trees that hedged around the railway.

The alpha kept its distance, well beyond the range of Blush, and seemed unperturbed at the display of swordsmanship and firearm skill each wave allowed the Adams. It had many in its black-winged clutch to batter them with until it could discover a weakness: while they fought to defend themselves against those that rushed in at them, others went back to digging into the sides of the train to slow it down again.

Even if they killed all the nevermores, if the train burned out of fuel again it would all have been for naught: Dominic did not doubt that the nevermores were the fastest grimm that had managed to catch up to them since their departure from Kuchinashi, but more would come.

"We have to kill that alpha!" Brazen said, his breathing becoming forced and making it difficult for him to speak.

"She's too far away!" Dominic replied, gauging the distance between the end of the train and the spectre hovering behind a wall of smaller nevermores, "even for Moonslice! Even if that wasn't the case she has a wall of little ones between her and us and we have no way of charging up our semblance!"

They sliced through another five nevermores that tested their weariness and kept them from prying the others off the side of the train.

"That's not entirely true," Brazen stated slowly, "I might have a plan."

Dominic allowed a pregnant pause before Brazen continued, the air whipping past them as the train crawled forward. _20 klicks, maximum. We need to fix this situation, and soon, or all is for naught. That little girl is depending on me! On us! My reputation! My honour!  
_

"We can charge Moonslice ourselves." Brazen yelled out like it was not a crazy statement at all, "come at me like we're sparring against a training dummy. Our attacks should be parallel enough that we will block every strike, no matter how fast we execute it, and the force of that should charge us up in no time at all."

"We can't afford that chance! If one of us is out of sync, we'll damage our aura or wound one another! There has to be another way to finish this quickly."

"Dammit Dom, I trust you with my life enough for this. I followed you up here! If we don't do it like this, then we might as well just run into the forest now. So trust me with this. Or if you have a better plan, I'm ready to hear it." He punctuated his ultimatum with the unloading of his rifle into a gang of nevermores that thought they could take advantage of the twin's exchange to get close enough to peck one of them. The nevermores withdrew back to their alpha.

"Fine. Let's try your idea." Dominic conceded the necessity of the plan, risky as it was. As he pointed Wilt at Brazen, a harsh truth came to him: even with Moonslice charged, one of them would have to leave the train to deliver the blow to the grimm's leader. He looked at his brother. Their minds in sync, he knew that both of them understood the sacrifice hanging over them darker than the wings of any monster. "This was all my fault anyways."

Their blades met, the clanging of metal ringing out and echoing back from the woods. The alpha cocked its head to the side, confused by the sudden internecine conflict occurring on the top of the end of the train. It gave a shriek and the birds that were not attached to the edges of the train withdrew from the 'battle' between the two faunus.

"Our aura drew them to the train. This burden is shared." Brazen's attack picked up speed, his teeth gritted in concentration.

"We could have run. We could have done things like you and Bedlam wanted to," screamed Dominic as he felt his own mouth clench shut, his tired arms moving his sword in elegant harmony with Brazen's. The sword began to shine a dull red.

It was working! Together, they could charge up their shared semblance!

Brazen gave a bleak chuckle, "Bedlam's probably got a good headstart now. He should make it to the city easily enough with this to distract the grimm, even if we fail. At least he will get a chance to have a showdown with the traitor," Adam Taurus continued to dance with himself on top of a train, the only way he had ever been taught: lethally. Every blow aimed at one another was launched with killing intent, with the full strength of his training, because both Brazen and Dominic understood that their time was growing short. To make full advantage of the confusion their sudden infighting created among their foes, they had to charge Moonslice as fast as they could. That meant going at each other at maximum power.

"You'll make it, too." Dominic growled, "because I'll be the one to kill that alpha. You launch me towards it once Moonslice is charged."

"I chose to come up here. Using Moonslice was my suggestion!" The swords gleamed red, now. Not a movement was wasted, each sword met its twin perfectly, absorbing the energy completely. It was like fighting his own reflection in the mirror.

"Be that as it may, this is my fight." Dominic's black-dyed hair was now streaked with red highlights. He felt his semblance bubbling underneath his skin, begging for release. For the satisfaction of the kill. "So I'll be the one who goes through with this plan, brother." _If he died to restore the honour of Adam Taurus, to repair his reputation, than so be it. Better to be seen willing to die to save the faunus on this train than be remembered as the one willing to kill himself and his minions to kill Blake and some faunus dissidents. Not the perfect end to his story that he had desired, but he accepted its necessity._

Brazen repositioned himself to the end of the train, breaking out of their duel, and readied himself to launch Dominic through the wall of grimm to their target. "Get a running start!"

Dominic stared his brother in the eye. The white robe flapped in the wind of the slow-moving train. "Promise me that whatever path your choice takes you down, whatever power you find there, promise me that you'll use it to free the faunus and make ourselves a legend that will never be forgotten by our liberated people."

Brazen nodded.

The nevermore alpha screamed, its bird brain still struggling to put the pieces together but suspecting the threat the swordsmen could pose to its longevity. Its instincts for self-preservation grappled with its overriding need to extinguish the sources of negative emotion on the train. It thought it was safe. It had never met Adam before, though.

Dominic's legs tensed as he prepared to sprint forward towards the end of his path, but then everything went red and black as Moonslice tore up through the middle of the caboose, wrenching the metal roof apart and sending jagged strips of metal flying out into the forest or into the mass of grimm. Brazen had quick enough reflexes to drop prone to avoid being smacked in the front by a spinning strip of steel.

Wilt in Dominic's hand had lost its red shine. Brazen and Dominic proceeded to shout out a chorus of profanity of such a vulgar nature that Dominic was thankful the faunus girl for whom he had gone through all this effort was at the other end of the train (and hopefully unable to hear the obscenities).

Bedlam leapt up onto the tattered remnants of the roof; at least some of it had not been annihilated by his greedy expenditure of their semblance. Yet worse than his poorly-timed discharge of their energy was the fact that the smarmy bastard had the gall to have a fat toothy grin on his face.

_How does a person with my exact body make me want to punch them in the face?_

~J~

B̛e̴DLAM

_They're selfish. Running straight into danger. For what?_

Why were the versions of him that weren't focused on Blake so quick to throw themselves between the grimm and the passengers, when he could not even bring himself to get out of his seat? Even if the train was the fastest way to the city, the risk they were taking in fighting the grimm seemed foolish. It would be much safer to simply use the train as a buffer to give them time to make it to the town safely on foot.

A nevermore impaled its talons into the shatter-resistant glass by his face, creating a spiderweb pattern of cracks. It's eye regarded him. It mocked him.

"You're in there. I'm out here," the bird seemed to say as it tilted its head at him, "what are you going to do about that?" Its feathers were the darkest black, like Blake's hair. _Damn thing_.

Bedlam looked at the other passengers, who were all occupying a scale between crying and cowering. Some had noticed the bird by his window. Some ignored the world around them as they prayed for salvation. Some had windows with avian attachments of their own to deal with.

The engineer who was collecting dust from the occupants was one of the former: he glared at the beast as it opened its wings to increase the drag on the train. Then the man glared at Bedlam.

Bedlam shrugged.

Bedlam stood and walked up to the engineer. "Someone should fix that human on the ground," he snarled, indicating with his hand the man still lying unconscious after getting sucker-punched by Dominic. _That was a memory he would savour_.

One of the passengers got up to do so, either eager to help the man or to be away from the bird pecking at the glass of her window.

Bedlam moved past the engineer. His legs were stiff. If he was going to make a run for it while the monsters killed everyone on the train, he may as well have a stretch first. _Once the train comes to a stop, I'll consider it time to get off. Until then, it is still moving towards the city._

Gunfire boomed from above. His siblings were busy up there, now. He saw black smoke drifting along the sides of the train as the beasts were destroyed by Blush's familiar firing pattern.

He walked into another passenger car. Much like the one he had been seated in, the passengers were all terrified but as he entered a scattering of them looked at him with sudden hope.

"Mom, look, a huntsman!"

"Thank the gods!"

"We're saved!"

Bedlam walked past them, stepping over the luggage strewn in the middle. The engineer entered the car and declared the necessity of appropriating any dust the passengers might have on them to get the train going again after it had been slowed by the nevermore. To Bedlam surprise, some of the humans recognized the logic in sacrificing their elegant dust-infused jewellery and even in some cases their clothes to save their lives. A short girl with blonde hair and a lacy pink umbrella stood up and offered a trio of red dust crystals the size of Adam's index fingers. As he passed by where she was her stature gave her heterochromatic eyes a clear view of his shadowed visage.

She smiled wickedly, not taking her eyes off of his face. It was unnerving, and Adam was glad to pass by her to to investigate the next car.

Through the other four additional passenger cars the scene was much the same as the first: scared humans and the occasional faunus that gazed at him with relief as the sound of combat thundered through the reinforced metal that divided their mobile sanctuary from the battle taking place overhead.

As he got to the last car that had been built for the purpose of human passengers, Bedlam told a couple to vacate their seats. He moved to the window, unhitched it and stuck his head out.

The train was still going along, but slowly. He brought out his Blush and fired up and down along the side of the train, smoking a half dozen creatures that insisted on ruining the streamlined shape of the train with their outstretched wings. He brought himself back into the train and locked the window. _There. I helped._

Bedlam came to the first freight car. Strewn all over the floor were the bodies of obviously less well-off civilians. They had tumbled around during the chase, and many were nursing injuries. A few had had the wherewithal to grab hold of the bungee cords attached to the walls that had been installed to hold crates in place during transit, which the passengers had clung to in order to keep themselves upright and out of the pile of flesh at the back of the car when the train had been at full speed. Optimistic that the train would accelerate again soon, they continued to hold the cords.

_Human cargo_, he thought as he remembered the life of an Atlesian faunus: being shipped from mine to mine in conditions much the same as this. The car felt downright homey to him.

"We can charge Moonslice ourselves!" Bedlam heard one of his siblings shout from above, the metal of the cargo car strong enough to protect against the feeblest of grimm foes but not being much for soundproofing. Bedlam listened to the half-baked plan of his brothers, and grew ashamed. Here he was, thinking only of himself and his need to get to Blake, when he was little better than Blake himself. Running away from problems, abandoning himself.

_They're right. Keeping the train operational is best for the passengers and us. It is still our fastest means of getting to Mistral. Mistral is where Blake is. If Blake got too far away for me to find because I chose to walk away from this trainwreck rather than staying to help it get to the city in time, I will have nobody but myself to blame for the increased difficulty associated with my path._

Bedlam heard Dominic's suicidal plan emerge in full as their blades sang to charge Moonslice.

Bedlam felt the need for release as his semblance charged, which made him realize what Brazen had figured out: his semblance was tied to his aura!

His aura was part of each body! Not just the bodies that actively charged it, but all three!

Bedlam shoved some helpless civilians out of his way and hacked a length of bungee cord from the wall, then quickly sprinted through each cargo car to gather it the rest of it. Then he followed the shouts and sound of swordfighting to the final car in the train and drew Wilt off of his back._  
_

He summoned the power that roiled in his soul and tore through the metal of the roof, disintegrating much of it and scattering chunks of molten metal into the train's tailwind. With a big smile he leapt up in the aftermath of the destruction and landed on a remnant of the ceiling.

They greeted his arrival with angry looks and rather coarse language, not suitable for television anywhere outside Vacuo (and even then, only on late-night programming).

"If you two are done being melodramatic, I think I have a way of doing this without one of you... _running off the rails_."

Despite the presence of innumerable grimm, despite the loss of all their stored up semblance, despite the fact that he had let them do the job alone until then, both Dominic and Brazen found it funny and laughed.

Brazen walked over to Bedlam and slapped him with a quick backhand to his now-exposed head. "You idiot, what took you so long?"

"If I'm an idiot, we're all idiots! But I'm not the one who forgot the first rule of adventuring: always bring rope!" With that, he brandished the length of bungee cord he had appropriated from the train.

"None of us can argue against our own idiocy," Dominic came over, the whimsically stretched metal whining under their combined weight, "but it is good to see that you did not run off just yet."

The brothers touched their blades together as the alpha began to put some distance between itself and the brothers.

"Now what is this about a plan that doesn't involve me leaping to my death?"

Bedlam held out the tied lengths of bungee cord to Dom, stretching them to demonstrate his plan.

With Bedlam there to set up the cord and hold off the renewed attack by the grimm, Brazen and Dominic were able to quickly recharge Moonslice. The alpha had put two hundred metres between it and the trio on the end of the train.

_Plans sure are easier to explain to people who think nearly identically to myself_, Bedlam mused.

The alpha called for all its miniature minions to fall back to defend it from whatever was coming. It had seen Moonslice in action, but did not fully understand where it had come from or what it represented.

_A shame I didn't realize the power of this relic before Haven. Blake's little shadow-clones and her monkey-boy's copies have nothing on this._

Moonslice represented retribution. Moonslice was death.

Dominic ran towards Brazen while Bedlam shot at the birds still clinging to the train and goading the alpha to 'come have a taste'.

Dominic flew towards the host of grimm as Brazen and Bedlam blasted a hole through the grimm between them and the alpha, and then Moonslice was within range. It screeched in fear. The smaller grimm clawed at Dominic, but his aura withstood the assault.

Dominic once again discharged his soul's essence, bisecting their foe from beak to tail. The alpha nevermore being extinguished resulted in the remainder of the flock beginning to swoop at the faunus heroes, heedless of the danger, no longer commanded by a stronger intelligence. They covered Dominic and tore at him, but then gravity brought him to hit the ground and shook all but one with the impact. The last nevermore clung to the back of his head and had been spared the rudeness of being dislodged by Dominic's protection of his skull. The bungee then yanked him back towards the train, which gave him the appearance of flying towards the train spread-eagle with a trail of black feathers like long hair flowing out behind him and his red sword held askew as he was dragged along behind the train. Bedlam and Brazen worked as quickly as they could to reel him in, but their efforts were hampered by the grimm coming at them. Eventually the three of them sat on the back of the train, exhausted.

"Nice work."

"Ditto."

"We make a great team, me myself and I."

They had a laugh. Triplet jokes were the new fashion this season, the height of fall fashion.

The train blew its whistle, making the three of them turn around to look towards the locomotive at the front.

"OH SHIT" the three screamed as they saw the approaching gated tunnel, too small for them to pass through while on top of the train.

With absolutely no dignity the three of them rolled off the back of the train like homeless vagabonds riding the rails moments before they would have slammed into the wall of the cliff through which the train would access the city. As they lie in the dirt, staggered from their tumble, the railroad entrance gate automatically sealed shut with a solid metal thud.

"Well then."

"I guess we'll have a bit more walking after all."

"Has anyone seen my hat?" Dominic asked, yanking off the nevermore than had somehow managed to stay on his head until then. "This is not my hat."

Bedlam shot it with his rifle. "Woah. That was a terrible wig."

"Nonetheless, we made it." Brazen declared, "we made it back to Mistral: the city that hates us almost as much as we hate it."

They began walking to the nearest roadway entrance to the city.

"That woman on the train was right." Brazen muttered as he smelled the air, "we really do need to get this _stank_ off of us."

"We smell like garbage." Dominic granted, "hot, sweaty garbage." He threw an arm over Brazen, bringing him in for a hug. Brazen accepted the gesture, and offered his other side to Bedlam.

Bedlam rolled his eyes, "shower first, then revenge. Got it."

~J~

Cammy Obscura huddled in the back of the train with the others, most of whom were still in shock from their shared near-death experience. Thanks to those fighters, the train had made it safely into Mistral and it would only be a matter of time before they could get out of the urine-soaked freight car and into a clean set of clothes and a secure shelter.

She hoped her grandparents back in town were safe. The grimm had all seemed to come after the train when it left. Either the intelligent corvid monsters wanted nobody to escape the destruction of the settlement, or they had targeted the train as being full of Kuchinashi's weakest inhabitants.

Cammy wrung her head in her hands. It was beyond her capabilities to understand the reasoning of grimm, if they acted on anything above instinct and cruelty at all. She had never seen any evidence to support such a thesis: her life had taught her that the grimm were defined only by their destructiveness, their ruthless pursuit of the eradication of all people on Remnant.

She looked around at the other refugees. All were haggard, all seemed to be zoned out of the world and shrunken into their own thoughts, their faces illuminated by the lights of buildings they passed since the car's lighting had been obliterated by that red blast that tore off the roof. Cammy took out her scroll and checked the signal. She was soon connected to the city's source, but that wouldn't let her communicate with the now-distant settlement where her beloved relatives waited. They were depending on the train to get word to the capital, so that reinforcements could be sent.

She sent a abbreviated message to her boss at the news studio, which led to her scroll vibrating as a call came through. Apparently the boss was working late and her text had been interesting enough to warrant the full attention of a call. Cammy fought her nervousness about talking to the boss: for goodness' sake, she had just survived a grimm attack! Talking with another human being should not be so big a deal.

"Yeah, boss. Hi! Kuchinashi just got swarmed by all sorts of grimm. I made it back on the train, but it was a close call. The train was covered in nevermores for a bit there, but some passengers managed to break them off and get us here safely," she blurted, her words coming out like chunky vomit, "but enough about that: get word to the military that they need help out there. Anything that can fly or drive should be getting out there to help. I've not seen grimm like that since the images from the Battle of Beacon, before the feed was cut and the tower crashed."

Her boss was a decent human being, and quickly called for another reporter to get their contact in the military on another line. Cammy prayed that that would be enough to get aid to her family and their fellow settlers.

"The train's coming to a stop, I'll head over as soon as I can." Cammy continued, "don't worry, boss. I've got something good, too. I had my scroll and managed to get a shot of one of the passengers killing the alpha nevermore that was leading the attack on the train. You'll never guess who it looks like! There was at least one other one, too..."

Later that night, sitting in the spartan apartment he owned in Mistral, awaiting teams RWBY and JNR-O to recover from injuries sustained at Haven (Oscar might have the mind of old man Oz stuck in his cranium, but his little boy bod couldn't handle the strain that fighting Hazel and Lionheart had forced it through), Qrow spit out his whiskey as he watched an unexpected headline come up on the local news.

**BANDIT RAVEN BRANWEN SAVES TRAIN, KUCHINASHI FROM MAJOR GRIMM ASSAULT: MORE AT ELEVEN**

And there was an image of what just may have been his treacherous sister: dressed in black with hair that matched the nevermore grimm swirling angrily around her as her red blade tore through the monstrous form of the alpha beast. The photo was not the best quality, and whoever had taken the image had been a fair distance from the fight and had been standing behind a glass window, but it was certainly long black hair and red sword. She seemed to be flying, too, so she must have just transformed. _Good thing the photograph didn't capture the transformation... that would have just made life so much harder for me._

In shock at the image, he dropped his whiskey mug and it shattered.

_Fuck my luck!_

Forced to drink from the bottle, he earned a reproachful glower from Ruby as she came back from a late training session with Blake, who followed her team leader while talking on her scroll; probably with her father. Qrow sighed. Rubes didn't understand what it was like to be him. Few people did. Oz had understood, given him jobs that complimented his abilities and let him avoid the usual pitfalls his cursed semblance often drove him into.

He should talk to Yang about her mother. Something about Raven having just disappeared from the Vault of the Spring Maiden was just _wrong_. She had not bothered to steal away with the relic, Spring was dead, and now Raven was apparently out saving trains in the middle of nowhere from grimm attacks? Was she trying to get back at Salem? Was this a feint, to make him pay attention to Mistral instead of somewhere else she could teleport to?

He found himself outside team RWBY's door. He raised his hand to knock, but then overheard their conversation. They were talking about their adventures while apart. Catching up. Team bonding.

It wasn't his place to interfere with that.

It wasn't the time to interrogate his own beloved kin about his own forsaken kin.

Qrow slouched back into the couch with a full bottle of Mistral's worst, and waited for the news at eleven. It had been a long day, and they still had a ways to go. He had spoken with Oscar-as-Ozpin, and they had agreed that getting Knowledge to Atlas was the best course of action. While Qrow may have not appreciated Jimmy's use of heavy-handed tactics and technological marvels, Atlas was in far better shape than Vale or Mistral.

_Vacuo, you ask?_ Qrow regarded the bottle as if it had made the query. _Vacuo is a wasteland surrounded by a desolate deathtrap of sand and storms._

Atlas it would be, but Atlas might be a hard place to get to and get into. Word was that they'd shut off their borders.

Qrow had gotten into more difficult places, though.

_There was this barmaid in a small village in the swamps on the edge of Mistral...with a skirt as short as her temper and a bed as soft as her breasts..._

~J~

"So there's three of me, now?"

**It would appear so**, Dai said, stretching so that her stomach was raised, her back arching up as her chair reclined.

A third Relic-Eye had opened up when 'Revolution' and 'Revelation' had awoken in the cave after a few minutes passed out; Adam had paid rapt attention to 'Resolution's solitary stand against waves of grimm. Things had seemed dire for a moment or two.

"I have to admit I am pretty proud of how well I seem to work with myself. I wish I had always had such reliable assistance in my life." The two newly-formed Adams tore through the creeper grimm in a remarkable display of prowess despite their exhaustion, eventually leading up to a climatic fight against a massive walrus-rat Lavel alpha fight.

**You demonstrate a great tenacity, Adam. Rarely have I ever seen a mortal dispatch grimm with such ease without the use of magic. **Dai pushed her hair out of her face, behind her ear with one hand while smiling at him.

"Just wait until they get some sleep and food. I'm in pretty poor form right now."

**I have been with you since Beacon. ****I have seen you at your prime.** She hummed out the last word through her smile.

"Yeah... that still seems strange to me. How should I feel about having an invisible stalker tied to my soul for so long without knowing it?" With the way she kept admiring his body, he felt like he had been violated.

**Nothing about my presence was odd. I did find some of your mannerisms strange. Do you find females attractive, or just Blake? I noticed that during my time with you from Beacon you never-**

"Blake was my partner." Adam interjected, not wanting her to discuss what she saw him doing (or not doing), while he was enjoying nobody's company but his own. "Always was, since I was old enough to consider such things. She always told me she wanted to wait until the world was a better place, I wanted to wait until the world was safe for faunus before we... before we engaged in any of that." Adam's face was beet red. _There is nothing wrong with having tried to save myself for Blake!_

More time passed in the Relic-Eyes: they watched the three Adams make camp and rest for the night, keeping watch and continuing to impress the daemon with their ability to slaughter the hordes of beasts that the relic drew towards them.

"So what is the deal with the sleep thing?"

**Your soul only needs so much rest to recharge your aura. Since you have multiple bodies, each one has a proportionate need to your original's sleep requirement. Each body needs to sleep less, but you still need to sleep.**

"Do I need to sleep here? Can I sleep here?"

**Nope**, Dai chirped as she began sliding her chair closer to his. When the chairs touched, they melted together into a two-seated couch. **We do not have to sleep at all, Adam Taurus. We can be together all night long.** Her head came to rest on his shoulder.

Adam tried to change the ambit of the conversation: "which name do you like the most, Dai?"

**Oh, I think Bedlam is my favourite so far as names are concerned.** Dai's leathery wing stretched over Adam's chest as she reached for a can of People Like Grapes, before dragging the cold container across his body so that it left a trail of condensation droplets over his heart. **It does make it easier to keep track of them at times, even if they still look identical.**

Adam shrugged. He sort of liked Dominic Tyraus or something that blended his long-ago self-chosen last name with Tyrant: he didn't mind people knowing that he wanted to be in charge. Cinder probably had named herself after her semblance, and that seemed to be working well for her. Or maybe her semblance had developed out of her own self-image of herself as a smouldering seductress?

Dai cooed as she watched the Adams tear apart the human scouts. **Ooooh, so ruthless! The pathetic humans mewled like fairies when they died!**

Adam shook his head slowly with disdain, "those humans did not stand a chance. They should have chosen to surrender before the fight began, or turn around when they realized who they were up against." Adam didn't flinch as he watched from three angles as a red sword ended the female captive's life.

**That is the problem with choice. Being free to choose means that many people choose to do stupid, often self-destructive things. If they are lucky, they live long enough to regret their choices and hopefully make better ones. Alpha grimm are the same way: if they survive long enough, they learn to stay away from civilized areas until they are certain of victory.  
**

Adam was silent for a while as he watched himselves walk up to the homestead the prisoner had mentioned.

"Dai, do you think the choices I made, the ones I've used the relic for pursuing... do you think that those were the right choices to make?" It was a subject he had been mulling over while watching himself go about his business in reality. Should he have used the relic right away like he had? Would he have even been able to live through the night on his own? It would have been a much harder fight alone, tired.

_Maybe I should stop thinking so much about my choices and just sit back and relax. Enjoy the show. Have some optimism that things will turn out well, or at the very least, interesting for us to watch._

**Maybe. Time will tell, and you will tell, and others may tell. There are many versions of right and wrong, all a matter of perspective. Are you pleased so far?**

Adam had to admit he seemed to be doing alright so far, but he would feel reassured with a second opinion that was not constantly trying to sensually explore him physically. Dai was no help in that field, her clawed leg tossed between his own to hold herself close to him on the couch.

Did he have to wait until he expired before someone reviewed his life and told him whether it was good or bad?

**The eyepatch makes Dominic look like a pirate. **Dai squealed as she saw him trying out the accessory with Bedlam in the homestead's master bedroom. **Maybe he is planning to plunder some booty? Or is that more Bedlam's area of expertise?**

Adam sighed, trying to ignore the way Dai was rubbing her posterior suggestively.

He tossed some more popcorn into his mouth. He was playing nice, by Dai's rules. Hopefully she would let him interact with one of the portals soon, to try that out.

Adam would settle for pants, though.


	7. Smelly Jelly

From the Author: Hi there

* * *

BEDLAM

The door slammed shut in Bedlam's face.

"Nope!" yelled the voice from the other side. "I'm not even going to tell her that you're here! You're lucky that I won't tell anyone you came here!"

"Come on, Salt. She will be angrier at you for turning me away than I am for you not opening this door immediately."

Silence from the other side.

"Open the door, Salt!" He turned around and looked at the other two where they hid and shrugged; not like they would have done any better securing lodging for himselves in the city. The trio had gotten into the city easily enough. For some reason the military seemed somewhat preoccupied, and the guards left at the city gates were more interested in what was happening out in the woods than keeping an eye on the sewer grates. _Hmmm. On that point, maybe I am going about this incorrectly. Negotiations would be easier if a barrier remained between my host and these excrement encrusted clothes._

"Fine, keep the door closed. At least tell Lichen I'm outside waiting." Adam stated.

Silence continued from Salt, but the boards of the house creaked imperceptibly. At least someone was moving inside. Either she was going back to whatever she did at home before he had come upon the safehouse doorstep, she was going to tell her mother that Adam Taurus was there, or Lichen herself was coming to the door to see what the commotion was.

"Mom!" the faunus girl shouted, "you oughtta come to the door! You have a visitor!" The last word dripped with venom. Adam was not really worried that Lichen might hesitate to pay back the favours she owed him by letting him hide out at her place, but Salt's attitude was unwelcome. _What did I do to get her tail in a knot?_

"Well, she has visitors," Brazen said. Dominic chuckled.

[You two get up onto the roof] Bedlam signalled to his copies, [watch window]. His brothers took the hint and vanished up the side of the building. _It just wouldn't do to let anyone know about his current body surplus, right? He had trusted his lieutenants at HQ like he had trusted Blake, and he was not going to make the same mistake here even if they were non-combatants._

The door opened, revealing the short and pudgy body of the arctic fox-faunus Lichen wearing pyjamas. She blinked at him through her thick spectacles that sat comfortably on her snout. "It has been many years since my saviour Adam Taurus came to see me. One could think that he had forgotten about little old Lichen after he got her out of that bandit camp that intended to sell me to the SDC!"

"I don't forget my people, Lichen. I just had more of our kin to save from the human's clutches." Bedlam responded, changing his tone to a chilly one to match his reception, "you were provided with this house and helped to get work in the city by the Fang. If you ever thought you should have been aided more, you knew well enough to ask your local representatives."

"Dearie, you know I love you but those words reek of bullshit almost as much as you do." Lichen threw open the door, illuminating him fully, "it smells like you have been staying in the city's sewers..."

"The sewer may have been instrumental to our entry into the city, Lichen." Bedlam said. "I am coming into your house now. I just need a place to clean up and rest for a couple nights while I catch my breath and get my bearings. It's been a strange week for me."

Salt stood a few meters behind her mother. "I don't trust this, mom. You've seen the reports on the television. We saw the footage from Haven. He tried to have Ghira killed! He fought Ghira's girl! They're saying he's a rabid animal."

_Ah,_ Bedlam surmised, _she's been watching the news.  
_

Bedlam eyes were concealed, so she could not see how he glared at her for her impudence. Despite that, she balked at his attention and stumbled backwards a foot.

"Now now, children, if there's one thing Lichen knows its how to treat kin. Adam Taurus is always welcome here, as are any who fight for the faunus. You can use the spare bedroom, third door on the left. I'll stock the bathroom and find the hardest soaps in the place to get whatever you crawled through off of you." Lichen waved him inside, and Salt covered her nose while her tail curled around her waist.

"Oh gods its awful!" she cried, "how can you stand to smell that bad?" He ignored the fox-faunus child and proceeded upstairs.

"Well if you had gone to bed on time like I had told you maybe you could have slept through his arrival, dear."

It had been years since his unit had rescued the bandits' prisoners and set them up in the city, but he still remembered the layout: Lichen saw no need to show him to the room she offered him, since he had been the one to give her the tour when she had moved in. The bedroom Lichen had told him to use was one of several in the house, meant to fit a couple faunus comfortably to keep them hidden from the human oppressors who sought to recapture their lost merchandise, now empty after those who occupied it found more permanent lodgings elsewhere on Remnant: either with the Fang, in Menagerie, or away from their erstwhile oppressors. Access to the bedroom was through a hidden door, covered by a sliding bookcase. _Ah, the classics._

Lichen had stayed. Lichen was loyal, Solitas-born, willing to give up more than most for the cause but never one to do so by fighting. She did her part by operating the safehouse and passing information along to local cells and operatives. She had never found herself positioned well enough in society to be overly useful to the operations of the Fang, and many had forgotten about her.

Which worked well for Adam's needs: the less people thought about this tiny safehouse the more secure he would be.

She hadn't been wrong, though, calling him (and by extension, the White Fang) out for neglecting the dismal situation she lived in. Telling her to contact her local representatives was a bit of an inside joke, really: most local funding had gone towards the construction efforts at the nearby headquarters. Adam had never asked how much that throne room had cost. Certainly more than it would have cost to repair the drywall and floorboards at Lichen's house.

Bedlam entered the room, closed the door behind him, and unlocked the window to let in the fresh night air. To his disappointment, what blew into the room smelled exactly as revolting as he did. Bedlam faced his choice-clones. The trio hung their soggy shoes from the windowsill to air out, then closed the window.

"The bathroom is ready, clean yourself up! It's late so I'm going back to bed now," their host hollered from the adjacent bathroom.

The trio entered after Bedlam sent the other two the 'all-clear' and saw the large bathtub and shower. Steam quickly filled the air, and Bedlam's muscles instantly eased up as he slid into the water of the bathtub. Lichen had put a towel, a brush and a few bottles of shampoos and lotions beside the basin.

Dominic shook his head as he saw Bedlam hogging the space in the bathtub for himself, then went under the shower to clean his hair. Around his feet expanded a blot of black, soiled water that circled the drain.

[Hair not water-proof] Brazen motioned, pointing and silently laughing at where his twin stood. Bedlam had a chuckle too, and watched the water stain the tile. Bedlam grabbed a bottle of soap and began lathering himself up.

[I thought that this would be weird] indicated Brazen, [you two changed together at house, but I changed alone] He shrugged and relaxed against the wall of the shower, waiting for Dom to finish cleaning himself off and just enjoying the steam [seeing my own dicks like this is less awkward than I had feared]

Bedlam rolled his eyes, then took off his blindfold and gave it a quick wash in his tub. As he did so, he rolled his eyes again for better effect.

"Oh, don't be like that. This is a golden opportunity to bond," Brazen whispered just loud enough to be heard by those outside the shower.

Dominic came out for air, wiping the water out of his good eye and then looking around at the liquid miasma splattered around him.

"I was covered in filth," he deadpanned.

[Your own fault], Brazen scolded him.

"Should ask Salt if she can run out to get some proper hair colourant for us." Dominic replied.

[Black not my preference]

[Staying red] Bedlam added. He got out of the tub after a couple more minutes of hard scrubbing. Dom and Brazen were now mock-swordfighting with a brush and a plunger, their footwork light as to not wake their host. _This is what happens when I stop caring about what Blake would think. They've reverted into children. _[I am done here. Going to sleep now] Bedlam communicated after getting their attention by squirting them with a bottle of skin lotion. He dried himself off with the towel, then left it behind for the other two to use. He put his blindfold back on and went through the door to the bedroom.

He was two steps into the room before a loud _gasp_ alerted him to his lack of privacy.

"Why aren't you wearing pants?!" Salt wailed, then slapped her hands over her mouth and looked at the door she came in through, worried that her mother would have heard the damning query from the elder faunus' first-floor bedroom. She needn't have worried: the bedrooms were well sound-proofed, which had been a necessity for the faunus living there through the years.

Some privacy was nice for those who had just gotten out of living crammed together in cages.

Bedlam considered fleeing back into the bathroom, but that would just give her more opportunity to witness his multiplicity. So instead, he walked over to the bed and grabbed the pillow that lay beside her and used it to cover himself. While he did so, she shielded her eyes and began shivering from embarrassment. Bedlam moved away and sat on top of the wooden dresser, his legs dangling over the side.

"I should ask you what you're doing in the room."

"Is the shower still running in there?"

"Yes," Bedlam said. _Right, those two are still going in there. Hopefully they heard her shout._ "I was not quite done in there and came in to fetch something."

Salt looked around the empty room, then looked at him and raised her eyebrow questioningly.

"My shoes. I hung them out the window earlier."

Salt looked at the window, then nodded her head. _She must have heard me open the window earlier._ She went to the window and grabbed for the shoes, bringing in all three pairs with a face that was more confused than before.

"Why do you have three pairs of shoes?" she asked incredulously.

"I spent a lot of time picking up habits from Blake." he answered without delay, "she is a totally shoe hoarder." _Blatant lies! Blake knew the sensibility of frugality, despite her upbringing!_

"Yeah, but why are they all the same shoes and why are they all filthy?"

"Hey, it is a good style!" _Blake picked them out for me two years ago! _"And they are all filthy because I literally swam through a sewer an hour ago. So why are you in my room? Came to apologize for earlier?"

Salt snorted and began to do a stilted laugh and got off the bed, approaching him slowly having regained her composure now that the pillow shielded her young eyes from things she should still be several years away from appreciating, "yeah right, no, I'm coming here to tell you..." and she began to whisper as she got near his seated form, "if you do anything, and I mean ANYTHING, to hurt my mom, the police are going to be the fucking LEAST of your worries!"

It would have come off as a threat if said by someone larger than her. Instead, Bedlam found the entire scene rather adorable. Relatable, perhaps. He had had just as much spirit when he was her age.

Bedlam languidly slid off the dresser so that he could tower over her intimidatingly. Her eyes tried to stay on his face, but kept darting down to note the various scars and blisters all over his torso and arms that were level with her face.

"If we all play nice, Salt, it will be like I was never here, and within a couple days, I won't be. So just pay your dues, put up with me for a bit, and we'll go back to our own lives again." he cooed, "and who taught you to swear like that?"

"Yeah, yeah..." Salt's hand came up to poke a particularly wide scar that trailed from his hip to the bottom of his ribcage, "gods, Taurus, what the hell did this to you?"

"SDC taskmaster whip for that one, when I turned around during one of my punishments to beg him to stop."

Salt paled.

"Don't forget that I was the one who pulled your pregnant mother out of a cage so that you didn't have to have a set of your own," he warned, "now if there is nothing else, I have a shower to get back into and a bedroom that I don't need a child hanging around in."

Salt took the hint and walked backwards out of the room, her eyes wide with terror. He locked the door after she retreated, then went into the bathroom where he found Brazen and Dominic standing patiently in the shower stall.

[Little girl playing tough] he informed them, before tossing the three pairs of shoes into the stall with them. [Wash those. I sleep]

He lay back on the bed and thought about what Salt had said. _For the moment, she should know well enough to follow her mother's example. If these two know one thing, it is that faunus don't go running to the human police_. _I still should not overstay my welcome. I may have pulled Lichen out of a cage, but Ghira's the one who knew how to deliver a baby in the middle of the woods and cared more about their welfare after the fighting was over.  
_

_With Ghira in town, their loyalty to me is conflicted._

~J~

BRAZEN

Brazen woke up, sleeping on the floor of the bedroom. Dominic had nestled up beside him and they had used each other as makeshift pillows while Bedlam claimed the comfortable single-bed for himself. The moon shone through the window, and Brazen pulled out his scroll.

The time was three in the morning. He went through his scroll's contact list before realizing that he did not actually have a direct means of contacting Hazel outside of physically tracking the man down: they had always used messengers and Adam's minions to communicate after their meeting in the throne room. When he had killed Sienna and claimed the title of High Leader for himself. When he had firmly allied himself with Cinder's humans and set himself on his current path.

_How am I going to find a man who does not want to be found in a city this large_, Brazen considered. _It is not like I know much about the man outside of his association with Cinder. What business could he have to take care of in the city that demanded he leave Cinder's subordinates out in the woods? Think think think!  
_

He looked at his aura level. 100%. It had been pretty low after the mess on the train, but having the three of them sleep together had gotten it back to nominal conditions within hours.

_Sleeping together_.

He looked at Dom's head resting on the arm that wasn't holding the scroll.

_Not like that!_ Brazen's face began to blush, _this is because we had to!_

"Yeah, sure, and you're only naked because the clothes we have are air-drying."

Dom's eyes opened at Bedlam's remark, focused on Brazen's face, then snapped to look up at Bedlam.

"You're just jealous you had to sleep alone," Dom replied, which brought a malicious smile to Brazen's face.

"You want some company up there?" Brazen asked, "I wouldn't mind getting in _Bed_. Maybe you felt left out of the shower swordfight?"

Bedlam paled at the innuendo being crudely hurled at him, "unless your name is Blake, then no."

Brazen shrugged, pushing Dom off as he did so. "Whatever. Honestly, with that attitude I have to confess you seem to be the most optimistic one of us." He stood up and looked out the window, to the dimly lit streets of the faunus neighbourhood. It was for human police patrols that they had street lights at all. "You've got a hard path, Bedlam."

Dominic came up to the window and stood beside him, throwing his arm around his neck. "He can have Blake. We've got each other's backs, which is more than we can say for Belladonna. Did she ever really trust us?"

"She was just using us from the start, getting us to do the dirty work so that she could feel morally superior." Brazen supplied, "I went through so much trouble to make her happy, to make her want to stay beside me, held off from looking at other girls..."

"Saved _everything_ for Blake," Dom scowled, "so much so that this hug is tantamount to having touched myself intimately!"

"It was out of respect for our dreams for the future," Bedlam whispered angrily, struggling to keep his volume low. The walls were sound-proofed in here as far as they knew, but it was still safer to not shout at one another.

_Of course, wouldn't anyone listening just assume I had gone completely crazy? I might be arguing with myself, but that doesn't mean that I'm arguing with myself. I'm not that sort of crazy. Right? _[What is plan for day] Brazen asked, changing the subject away from what appeared to be transforming into an awkward argument about why he had never enjoyed his own body. "I could use a sounding board for where my contact is going to be."

[I will find Blake] responded Bedlam, [doubt Hazel will be there]. While Hazel might be opposed to Blake and her teammates from Beacon, Adams doubted that he would try to take them on alone after they had defeated him with Cinder's flunkies backing him up; if he had been a stealthier fighter, maybe. So if Hazel was not in town to fight Blake's group, he would be looking for someone or something else.

Cinder had not left town with them, so maybe his plan was to get information on her whereabouts? They had failed their mission at the school, so there must be something in town that he needed to mitigate the loss. Perhaps his target was Lionheart.

[Lionheart], Brazen signed, [I should go to the school, at least that is a static location to search] Lionheart may be an unknown party to him, but there was a chance of Hazel or Cinder pursuing the headmaster.

[Returning to the scene of defeat?] Dominic frowned. He clearly did not like the idea.

Brazen eyed him warily for a few moments, waiting for more. Waiting for a suggestion for a better route to the goal.

"I am going to get some coffee. Need something until I get a new hat." Dominic left the room and headed downstairs. Brazen quietly moved to the door and leaned against it, listening through the material for their brother's return. He returned several minutes later with a bag of coffee grounds and a black marker.

_I am a master of disguise,_ Brazen tried to convince himself.

[I have an idea of where to find Blake, if she is hiding at the place her team was at], Bedlam signed. He got up and started testing the dryness of their clothes before beginning to don his outfit. [Going to head out now. Plan to meet back here?]

[Use scrolls to stay in contact] Dominic ordered, [if we suspect one of the scrolls of being compromised...]

[I say plan to meet back here at sunset] Brazen suggested, [if one of us goes dark, the others should find them after two days]

[Come in through window] Bedlam added, [first one back can go back out and enter normal way]. He looked at Brazen and Dom for a little bit, then crawled out the window into the night.

Brazen helped Dominic darken his hair in the bathroom, ensuring that the access door from the hallway was locked while they did so. Afterwards they went back into the bedroom and stared each other down.

"I guess I'd better get to work, too," the remaining faunus said together. "That is still strange."

Dominic went over to where his clothes were hung, tossing Brazen's into his brother's hands. Brazen donned his outfit, replete with white robe, and unlocked the door.

"Good luck," they chimed. Dominic slid out the window in a strange deja-vu of Bedlam's departure while Brazen went through the house to leave through the front door, making enough sound to make anyone awake aware of his movement without being brusque enough to wake anyone or make it too obvious he wanted his exit to be noted.

Brazen headed to a local cheap tavern; thanks to it being the faunus district it was open for business in the early morning. He had them bring him a salad and a parfait, which he hoped was not made with bat-faunus milk. The aging counter-clerk paid him little attention, swaying gently after serving the order, barely registering what went on in the building after a long overnight shift.

While he ate he read a local tabloid that he took from a newspaper stand, choosing the glossy magazine because its cover had more pictures and less words.

It had headlines like "Government Saves Haven Academy" and "Menagerie Militia Makes its Mark". Adam's face was on the eighteenth page, after a solid seven pages of advertisements for local theatre and feminine make-up products (many of which were tested on unwilling faunus, no doubt). The photo had been altered, adding froth on his mouth and giving him bloodshot eyes that peered through his mask. They'd even given him grimm-red eyes.

He threw the trash-rag out with the rest of his breakfast's garbage and wandered back out onto the streets. Haven was a fair distance from the faunus district and remaining inconspicuous retarded his speed considerably.

As he wandered through the back-alleys and side streets, he saw a few posters with his face on them. Some were older ones put up by the Fang, rallying the faunus to join their ranks. Many of those were now defaced, faded, or partially torn down.

_I guess the media is having an easy time demonizing me_. Out of all of those responsible for the attacks on Haven and Beacon, he was the face that people had feared beforehand. Cinder, Hazel, these names meant nothing to common humans. Adam Taurus was the face of evil chosen by the media. It didn't bother him, though. Before the split he would have been enraged at the slandering of his reputation. In his present condition he viewed it as merely background noise. What people, human or faunus, thought of him did not matter anymore. _I have a mission. I will free my people. I will reveal the means to destroy my enemies and bring humanity to its knees. When I am done, they shall revere me for my sacrifices on their behalf._

At busier intersections and outside more upscale businesses were military posters bearing his likeness, as well as images of Cinder, Hazel, Mercury and Emerald. None had been seen since the battle, which was good and bad. Good in that they were still at large, bad in that he had no more to go on to find his allies. _I mean, if I can't find Hazel or Cinder in Mistral today I can always run back out to the airship where Hazel left Cinder's kids._

Lionheart's face was not there. A good sign? Either his involvement with Cinder had remained a secret from Blake, he was in prison, or he was dead. Or maybe he had struck some sort of plea deal, argued that his participation had been coerced.

_If I am going to get into Haven to track down Lionheart, I am going to need a better disguise. Something that does not rely on me just wearing a large hooded cloak._

Keeping his eye out for ideas, Brazen came upon two teenage boys as he walked through a neighbourhood park.

"So there was nothing at that store, does that mean we can go back to the dorms now? I heard the others saying something about doing something today, so we should get back for whatever that is."

"Oh, that, um, that was just them talking about doing some training one-on-one. Getting back in shape, since we haven't really done much since leaving Vale," the red-haired human responded, his voice cracking initially as he attempted to cover an obvious lie. Brazen sat down on a park bench, hoping the two would pass by and pay him no notice.

He needed an invisibility cloak. A magic ring that concealed him rather than split him into three people. He had nine other fingers, right? An illusion semblance. A stealth bullhead!

A sign that said 'FAUNUS NEED Ⱡ plz HELP'.

Anything to make them ignore him and go on about their business.

Instead of passing him by, the pair stopped at the dilapidated children's play structure.

"Oh, so they're training and getting ready for going to Shade Academy while we're both out here looking for sports gear?" complained the spiky blue-haired guy.

"No, no no! We're looking for something to protect what is most valuable, what is most vulnerable! We are on a quest to find the key to our future victories! Never again shall any of our team find itself shamefully unprepared for the rigours of combat!"

"Is this because you took a coconut to the groin during Vytal?"

"We shall find jockstraps so that none of you will never have to suffer my agony!" Red-head pulled his counterpart into a close hug with one arm while holding his other hand outstretched in front of them, "I am a trailblazer, a knower of that which much not be known, a feeler of what must not be felt by any man!"

"If the other two are training, we should, too." With that, the blue haired boy pulled out a weapon that expanded into a long trident, escaping from red-hair's grapple like a slippery eel. "Plus after that spiel, I REALLY want to hit you a few times."

Red-haired sighed and muttered lightly "this is what I get for following orders from Sun...", low enough that Brazen barely heard it. The blue-haired boy didn't seem to have heard it at all, being too distracted with twirling his pronged weapon around in an attempt to dazzle his compatriot with his prowess.

_Great, a couple of try-hard huntsmen in training,_ Brazen complained to himself, but then looked around the area. Nobody else in the isolated area, and the pair did seem to be focused on each other to the point of having not looked over to where the wanted terrorist sat humbly on the park bench.

_That redheaded guy has a nice scarf. And those yellow goggles on the blue-haired boy would be a decent cover for my eyes..._

Brazen felt the metal of Blush against his back as it was caught between him and the back of the bench. The two boys began a sparring session on the jungle-gym playground, slowly wearing down each of their auras as they vaulted over climbing bars and over slides.

Huntsmen in training regularly practiced until one of them was unable to continue or hit 20% aura. Accidents sometimes occurred during such bouts, but so long as they survived without anything more than a quick black-out they would probably barely notice a petty theft.

_My quest for fashion will not be denied!_

~J~

DOMINIC

He leapt from rooftop to rooftop, wrapped in the darkness as much as he was his trenchcoat. He had to be on top. Of the Fang. Of his people. He had to be the one in the light.

The docks were close to the faunus district: neither was far removed from the sewage of the mountain city. He would be there well before the sun rose. He would not be there before the earliest dockworker started his shift. Small fishing ships and local ferries were already floating away from the harbour.

He found a wharfside food stand and ordered a meal. The man served him a bowl of noodles, which seemed appropriate albeit frugal. Typical labourer fare this early in the morning... or this late in the shift for those who worked overnight.

"I'm looking for passage on a ship to Vale," he said to the shopkeeper, "any recommendations?"

The wrinkled old human frowned (and Dom had thought his original expression had been a frown), made a grunt, and shook his head.

Dom finished the bowl of noodles.

"Thank you for your service," Dom said as he left the noodle stand.

_Alright_, he thought, _mission objectives: obtain passage to Vale as quickly as possible. Get a new fashion accessory to conceal faunus heritage from observers._

The primary objective was going to be impossible for a few hours. The second would either require him to rob some random person, endangering his ability to pass undetected by local law enforcement, or await for a clothing store to open.

Well, he would have to find the place that sold spots on the ship anyways, right? May as well keep half an eye out for a clothing shop, too.

_I should have been more careful with my hat before getting onto that moving train!_ He scolded himself as he slunk along the docks, getting the layout of the area for a few hours while the sun hesitated to lurch over the horizon.

Since the docks were at the base of the mountain city, the actual waterfront area was so vast he could not hope to cover it in a single day. Perhaps not even in a week. This was not only to his detriment, however: anyone reporting spotting a man matching Adam Taurus' description 'in the docks' would not hamper his attempt at flight from the continent.

As noon approached he walked out of a local millinery with a fine new hat. He had great optimism that with it covering his horns he would attract less suspicion from the local dregs, now that the sun was high enough to make his faunus features visible to humans. Suitably disguised, the sprawling docks would be his hunting grounds for his floating quarry.

It did not irritate him much that so far most ships he had inspected were local fishing ships.

It did not concern him much that the ferries he had seen were bound for Mistral's coastal settlements.

It did bother him that Belladonna's blonde companion who had arrived with her at Haven was also on the docks. Dom quickly ruffled his clothes up and checked on his disguise in a nearby reflective windowpane. _I can barely recognize myself! This will be fine._

He took out his scroll and sent a low-priority message to Bedlam. "Blake's blonde boy at docks", the message read. _Not like I care about Blake, but this guy intrigues me._ With that in mind, Dom was not about to pounce on the huntsman-in-training here at the docks. For starters, it would cause a scene he would prefer to avoid. Secondly, the simian faunus was not alone: some green-haired fellow followed him like a bodyguard, his stern expression and wary stance betraying his attempt to seem relaxed.

"Come on, Sun. We can wait for the airships to get back from that town they all flew off to. You know he's going to flip if we get passage on a boat."

"Sage, my dear and earnest companion: you have nothing to fret over!" replied the blonde, whose name was apparently Sun. "You see, we are not getting passage on a boat. We are merely exploring local alternative travel opportunities, necessitated by the sudden departure of all local air transports. Neptune will be told by Scarlet that you and I are just getting back in shape, a worthy lie since the four of us have spent quite some time apart."

"While I hesitate to place blame upon that circumstance, I would remind you that you are the one who disappeared after the Battle of Beacon to... how did you say it?"

"I was helping a friend!"

"Right, chasing some tail."

"Don't quote Neptune! He knows not of what he speaks."

"He says you know not of what you seek, seeing as how she kicked you to the proverbial curb the moment her teammates came back into the scene."

"We spent nearly two seasons together, nonstop!"

"Stuck on an island with a girl for the spring and summer, but now she can't wait to get away from you." Sage's mocking tone visibly deflating Sun, who now looked crestfallen. "Anyways, you are deflecting again. The point I was trying to make is not that you could not get a girl's scroll digits if you worked for the CCTS, but that you are to blame for our team's lack of practice of late."

Sun rose up to make a comeback to that, deliberated, opened his mouth to speak, then nodded.

"Furthermore, your... withdrawal from Beacon immediately following a faunus terrorist organization's largest attack on a civilian target was ill-timed." Sun looked confused at that. "Some of us had to reassure one another of your loyalties."

"Sage, I'm really sorry. I didn't know. But you know me. I'm not with the White Fang. Those guys are seriously messed up. I should know! I spent all my time in Menagerie helping Blake fight them off!"

Sun began doing martial arts kicks and punches at the air, drawing concerned glances from the nearby civilians who began to give him a wider berth. Dominic had to get further away, lest he stand out from the crowd.

"So why are we here, Sun?" Sage asked after standing at a distance for a minute to watch his team's leader demonstrate how he had 'fought off Ilia and the Albain brothers', which Dom for his part thoroughly enjoyed. It was nice to hear a first-hand account of how his followers had botched such a straightforward plan, rather than having to hear reports from messengers who barely beat the Menagerie Militia to Mistral in time for the attack on Haven; it was no wonder his forces had been routed... only his Vale forces had ever met his expectations for competence.

"I know you try to keep up the facade, but you are smarter than that. You've been friends with Neptune for years, and know he won't get on a boat." The pair had begun walking along the pier after Sun's display concluded, and Dom tried to appear innocuous as he tailed them, eager to overhear more tidbits of information.

"Ah, that is where your understanding of Neptune's psyche fails you, my boon companion. You see, he won't get on a boat _willingly_."

"Dare I ask?"

"Have you ever watched a scrollnet series called 'The J-Team'? About four soldiers-of-fortune hunted by the Vale military after the conclusion of the Great War for a crime they didn't commit, having adventures and helping people with stuff for lien? Among other things it provides a useful method of ensuring compliance from those who resist certain means of transit."

"I am familiar with the show...is this why we're also looking for an apothecary? Are we going to have to drug Neptune's milk?"

"I mean, if that doesn't work we can always knock him out some other way."

_Devious_, Dominic thought.

"So that's settled?" Sun asked.

Sage nodded, "I suppose so, if that is our real intention for being here..."

Sun gave a huge, closed-eyed grin. "Excellent!" Sun spun about, doing a quick 180-degree turn, "which brings us to the next order of business!" Sun's eyes trained on Dominic, who stood beside a pile of wooden crates while a pair of sailors argued about who was going to move them onto a nearby dinghy. "You've been following us for a while now, is there something you want?"

Dominic's coat collar was up, his hat was tilted down, his eyepatch in place, his hair darkened from a mixture of black ink and coffee grounds... had Sun seen through it all?

He kept his voice high and smooth, avoiding the gravely intimidating tone he had practiced for many hours, the tone he had used at Haven when Sun had stood beside Blake, "I overheard the two of you fellows were on the hunt for a ship, and since I was thinking of heading out of the city that way myself I thought I would follow you. I'm a carpenter by trade, learned my craft out in Ilhari. Figured I could put my skills to better work in the effort to rebuild Vale."

"Oh, that makes sense I guess. It was just sort of shady having you tailing me. I've already got enough of that with this thing!" Sun gestured to his furry yellow tail. "My name is Sun Wukong, and this is my teammate Sage."

"Dominic," he responded, suddenly thankful that he had a quick alias to give them. "Didn't know my parents so I just go by that. In a small hamlet like where I grew up, it was never a problem."

Sun's posture seemed relaxed at a glance, but his stance would grant him easy access to his weapon. _Suspicious_. "Yeah, it is tough to find yourself all alone for the first time in a messy city like this after living your life in a different sort of place. That's okay, Sage and I would be happy to have you along on our search for a ship that is not heading to Menagerie. There are a lot of faunus who want to get back home, now that the fight at Haven is over."

"Not the sort of place for a man like me, Menagerie. Unless one of those ships is heading to Vale, I'd prefer a more direct route."

"Well, we're hoping to find a way to Vacuo. We're aspiring huntsmen, but with Haven out for the semester my team decided to head to Shade."

Sage laughed, "more like you decided, suddenly acting like a team leader again."

Dom's eye narrowed. _Team leader? A faunus from a Mistral huntsman team, leading humans. Interesting._ Blake's friends were intriguing.

Sun cocked his head to the side. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah, just thinking." Dom recovered quickly, realizing that his hat's shadow was little protection against a fellow-faunus' vision. "If there is a ship heading to Vale after Vacuo, that would probably be safer than the seas between Menagerie and Vale. Quicker, too."

Sage was paying attention as a courtesy, but Sun's demeanour told of his energy for this encounter. Or perhaps just his energetic nature.

"If you don't mind, I'll follow along for a bit."

"No problem, Dominic," he shrugged in a forced way that tried to appear nonchalant and began walking along the pier again, "ah, we all need help sometimes. Right?"

Dominic didn't trust Sun at all. Who could possibly act so sincerely kind for no motive? If their roles were reversed, Dom would lure his target away from civilians who could interfere, then attack once their guard was lowered. Sun didn't lead the three of them away from the populated areas, though.

_Is he scared of me? Getting a feel for me? Trying to make me break my disguise?  
_

After a couple travel kiosks, Dom began to suspect his guide of complete obliviousness. He was going around, looking for tickets for a ship. He even turned his back to Dominic several times.

Dominic didn't relax his guard, and over the course of the hour they spent searching the docks he contributed little more than an audience for their idle chatter, but by the time the three of them learned that a ship from Vacuo was due to arrive in a week and was scheduled to head back that way with no intention of picking up Menagerie-bound faunus who had come with the Belladonnas, Dominic had come to look forward to learning more about Sun.

Dominic bought a ticket, and the SSSN teammates requested that four tickets be put on hold for two days (paying a small deposit for the service) since they were still hoping to get an airship.

_Being stuck on a ship with him for a couple weeks on the way to Vacuo? What could go wrong with that plan?_

Since there was no other means of getting to Vale without going through airport security, Dom would take the risk. If nothing else, Sun would find it difficult to catch Taurus while he was sleeping thanks to the Relic. Plus there was always the chance that team SSSN would manage to make air-travel arrangements.

So now he had a week to do whatever he wanted until the boat was due to arrive.

~J~

BEDLAM

Having joined her teammates and the other children who had fought Cinder's forces inside Haven, Blake had been surrounded by several people all day. When Ghira had come by, he had been escorted by a mixture of local human military personnel and his own faunus militia. All very attentive to their surroundings, all very well armed.

_I could take them, though_, Bedlam preened to himself. Ghira was tough, but not one to fight when his mouth was not yet tired from trying his pacifist approach. The Mistralian military entourage seemed to be as wary of their charges as of their surroundings. _Still not fond of faunus, are they...typical humans._ Even after Ghira had risked his reputation coming to help humans, they still had no faith in him. If he attacked the humans first, they would hesitate while appraising whether or not the other faunus were on their side or not. Ghira, the strongest threat, would try to soothe the situation with his words. In that time, Bedlam could have most of the humans sprawled out on the ground before the traitors even got a shot in. _Today is for reconnaissance only._

Blake looked happy. She fluttered around the room, visible through the large plate glass windows with the help of the binoculars the trio had obtained earlier, introducing her teammates to her father.

"Well hello, my name is Ghira so nice to meet you I hope we can all make faunus and humans live together forever in peace even if that doesn't happen for a few more centuries and despite the abuse my people have suffered at the hands of yours," Bedlam muttered to himself in his best impersonation of Ghira's tone, watching the scene with disdain.

Look at her in there. So happy. So content.

Without him.

It made him grit his teeth with rage!

He memorized the faces of everyone in the building. Every single one of them undoubtedly precious to her.

Blake's team leader. Short girl, a fashionable colour scheme that appealed to his tastes. She seemed to be the most energetic of the lot, shaking Ghira's hand and talking even more than he did, before blushing and covering her mouth. _She's said something foolish, it seems._ Ghira took it in stride, laughed and patted her on the back, which made the girl beam with delight.

Blake's new blonde female partner. New cybernetic arm. Clearly Atlesian in origin. She seemed reserved. Troubled. The walking brewery attempted to engage her in conversation a few times before he gave up to go drink in the corner. Blake introduced her new partner to Ghira. The girl looked like she wished she was a turtle, trying to shrink into her seat. Blake seemed nervous around her partner. _Some sort of tension there, possible to exploit it?_

The Schnee. Bedlam did not know where to begin with that. For a decade, Blake and Adam had fought against Weiss' family's company, both of them knowing full-well the brand that marred Adam's eye under the mask. Ghira and the Schnee spoke at length: so long that Blake left them alone after half an hour to go to another room.

Bedlam took out his scroll, zoomed in on the scene of Ghira and a Schnee having a nice chat. _Dominic will simply love this, as will our followers in Vale. Not to mention in Atlas._ He saved the file to their shared drive. There was another new file in there.

"Blake's blonde boy at docks", the message read. Dominic seemed to be thinking of him, how kind of himself. Bedlam hoped that Dominic could do something with Blake's friend to make her suffer, to see the pain being away from his side would force him to cause her. Anything to make her peaceful recuperation in the luxurious huntsman apartment bittersweet.

_A tail in the mail makes the feline wail_.

"I'll have to catch up with Dominic tonight about what he learned about the boy who dared look at my darling while I was not around..."

Three other huntsmen-in-training were outside, enjoying the garden. An orange-haired girl in a skirt who seemed to be barely awake, propping her head up with her hands. Bedlam crept closer to the house after assuring himself that the guards were all inside with Ghira or out front at the main entrance, and overheard her complaining about being "cooped up in this house until everyone's injuries from the battle were healed". He learned that their names were Jaune, the girl was Nora, and a second boy who was aggravating the girl by not making any more pancakes. All humans.

"I wish your semblance could work on Oscar like it worked on Weiss, Jaune," the girl complained.

"Me too, Nora. But whatever strain fighting Hazel had on him it was more than just his body getting rag-dolled. His body still isn't used to projecting a defensive aura that long."

Preferring to watch his target directly again without getting distracted by her companions, Bedlam put some distance between him and the house, claiming a prime vantage perch atop a boutique's roof that had a good line of sight to the large window at the back of their house. The boutique's roof had an ornate eavestrough that concealed him from nearby foot traffic, and the curved street gave it a perception line to his target. A patrol of Mistral police passed right underneath him and had no idea he was there!

He watched Blake. He watched Blake's team. He watched Ghira leave and head back to wherever he was staying.

Bedlam thought about following Ghira, killing him to get Blake angry. It could work. He would check that out the next day.

He scouted the house Blake stayed in. He observed their behaviours, when they ate and that they all stayed in the house.

Stalking was a full-time endeavour, but he was patient now. He had nothing else to worry about. His psyche-slices would deal with his other pressing responsibilities.

So he watched Blake as the sun rolled across the sky and waited for his moment to come.

~J~

BRAZEN

Carpenters repaired damage to the interior of Haven where Cinder had fought against Blake's teammates. They paid him no mind. His eccentric appearance and determined gait gave him the likeness of a retired huntsman coming in to visit his teaching office. Outside, in the courtyard, a few reporters had milled about. One young human girl had approached him with a notepad and asked him who he was and what he thought of the school being closed for the semester, and how it would affect the region's stability. He had waved her off, dismissing her without a word.

He came to the headmaster's office door. It was closed.

Brazen gave the hallway a quick check: nobody else was there. Nobody would see his trespass. He listened at the door. He heard no sound of people within.

He opened the door and strode inside, closing the door with his foot after he had passed through.

Books. Books everywhere. He cursed Blake's desertion. If the traitor had only been more diligent in teaching him to read, such a library would be so less a daunting opponent for him. He cursed the SDC for never giving him proper education as a child, outside of how to crawl through mine shafts and stay alive.

_Well, that last bit was somewhat useful through the years_.

"Professor Lionheart, where are you?" Brazen muttered before his eyes found a bleached stain on the floor, partially covered by a rug that did not match the age of the rest of the room. He kicked the rug aside and saw a larger stain, softened by cleaning products but still evidence of a bloody end. He looked at the desk and saw a red name plate with golden lettering.

_I may be a poor reader, but I am pretty sure that is not how anyone spells Lionheart._

_This isn't right_.

The person he had thought easiest to find in Mistral suddenly became less so. A new headmaster of Haven Academy. A bloodstain on the floor. It didn't look like Lionheart was around to answer or aid him. Despite that, Brazen hadn't crawled all the way through the streets and alleys of Mistral to the summit of the mountain city to go away empty-handed. He had the office to himself, school was not in session, and despite his preference to avoid heavy reading he could still rifle through the place to see if there was anything useful or valuable.

He started with a desk, but there was little there other than the name plate and a quill pen and associated inkwell. No secret drawers there. The top of the desk was scroll-receptive, but was little more than a touchscreen keyboard when he put his device on the surface.

_Wait, there's something here._

Hidden files. Some sort of local communications link in the form of a stylized _W_, though that seemed like it was one-way and defunct. The files, in alphabetical order, were student files. Separated from the rest were three: Cinder Fall, Mercury Black, Emerald Sustrai.

Brazen copied the three files to his scroll. Perhaps they would be useful.

The windows had a lovely panoramic view of the surrounding region. Brazen noted that there was not a single aircraft in the local airspace. A nice change from the last time he had come here.

The books on the shelves overhead seemed covered in dust, untouched for several months. The bookcases at ground level were more attainable but seemed just as unused as those above. He skimmed through the titles on the spines, though most seemed rather tedious. Histories, grimm anatomy textbooks, _math_. Useless to him, really. His hand came to rest on a black hardcover book which lacked a title, and the shelf in front of it was bereft of the dust that had accumulated in front of its peers.

Brazen pulled at it, intent on seeing what it was about, but it only came out halfway before refusing to come out further. He released his hold on the tome and it retracted back to its original position on the shelf.

A series of mechanical clicks began and the wall whirred behind the bookcase. Brazen leapt back, pulled down his hood with one hand and triggered Blush with his other, firing Wilt towards the vaulted ceiling. By the time Wilt fell down and was caught in his hand, the bookcase had fully opened to reveal a secret passage-way. It was dark, with candle-holders along the wall containing nothing but ruined sloughs of melted wax. He grabbed his scroll from the desk and set it to flashlight mode and shone it down the new hallway. It curved down out of sight. Brazen took one last glance at the office. Nothing left in here unless he planned to triple his vocabulary. He moved carefully into the hallway, his body on high alert with his ears keen for danger and his defensive aura up.

He came to a circular room with a concentric rings of stone tile at the centre. Dead candles lay forgotten in their holders. It seemed like a deadend, and he wondered what the purpose of such a place could have been. He poked at the stone rings with his foot, wary of a pressure-plate trap, but they were solid.

He stood in the centre and looked around at the curved wall of the room with his scroll. No markings, no strange details. He looked down at the tile upon which he stood, which appeared to be a dark circle held in the centre of a T-shaped intersecting lines that reached it from the outer ring of cobblestone.

_Clickle crack clack clack_

Without warning, slender fanged tendrils shot down at him from above and ensnared him in their grasp, denying his arm any leverage to use Wilt against his assailant while pulling him upwards to the ceiling. His scroll fell to the floor and landed flashlight down, immersing him in darkness.

His mind fell back to the claustrophobia of the mine, trapped beneath rubble and unable to move.

There was a hissing sound, like gas being pumped into a room, then a dim red glow came from a toothed orb to which the tendrils were attached. _Grimm. A kind I've never seen before._

"What have we here?" a feminine voice drawled faintly, "Adam Taurus. You have proven to be quite loyal to my cause. It is a pleasure to finally get to talk to you directly."

The tendril around Adam's neck relaxed and he gasped for air he hadn't realized had been withheld from him during the momentary rush of adrenaline, the claustrophobic panic unconsciously making his body hold his breath.

"My name is Salem."

A tentacle of the creature of grimm caressed his face while another removed his newly-acquire goggles from their position on his face. Yet another brushed his hair and scarf off of his face. Those holding him aloft rotated him so that he was vertical again, before lowering him to the floor. The creature floated down aside him, and while he was still held firmly in its grasp he was at least grounded.

"Humanity has been cruel to you." A tentacle traced the lines of his brand. "You have concerns that working with Cinder makes you a pawn for a human cause. That despite its parallels to your own struggle, it is at its nucleus in opposition to your dream for this world."

The tentacles released him entirely now, and he slowly retrieved Wilt from where it had fallen on the floor. The glowing red orb remained still.

He stowed Wilt carefully back through his hood into where Blush was fastened to his torso underneath the white robe.

"You will find that your concerns are unfounded."

A face appeared from within the red glow of the grimm's body, white and streaked with black veins.

"You'll find no humanity in me. What would I find in you?"

Adam narrowed his eyes as the room filled with light, the candles coming back to life as if they were newly lit. The voice, the face, this must be the master Cinder and Hazel served. A being who held valuable answers and secrets. Revelation.

"Strength. Strength and unwavering conviction." Brazen growled. "I have lost track of your servant, Hazel, after tracking him out of town to an airship. Emerald and Mercury made it out with him. I don't know what has become of Cinder. The attack on the school failed."

"That is... most disappointing" Salem responded, her tone giving away little more than reserved malice. "How would you say that came to pass?"

"A variety of factors. Cinder changed the plan, decided to fight Blake's team and some other huntsmen within the school. My treacherous lieutenants from Menagerie came with Ghira Belladonna and a force of fighters composed of faunus and local police to prevent my destruction of the school from going forward as planned. The school is closed, but still standing. I am trying to determine how to proceed from here. There is so much that I must do..."

"It's important not to lose sight of what drives you, Adam. Everything you want to accomplish is still within our grasp. But the path to your desires is found only through me. Serve me, execute my will as you have done before, and we can remake the world as we see fit. Unburdened by the history written by foolish humans."

"What do you need me to do?"

Salem was silent for a moment, rapping her long fingers against the side of her head as she considered the situation.

"It is of immeasurable importance that I determine the fate of my dear Cinder," she at last whispered, "Adam. I need you to find Cinder and relay to me what condition she is in now. Hazel is competent enough to return to me without your assistance, so focus your efforts on finding out what fate has befallen Cinder."

_This all sort of nixes my backup-plan to get to Hazel's airship to regroup... now I have to stay here in Mistral to find Cinder for Salem._

"How will I relay this information to you?" Adam asked, "it is not likely that I will be able to return to this place again."

"No, it is not is it," she said, "you must take this Seer to a place more easily accessible to you. Do you have anywhere that you could use as a sanctum, as this place was for Lionheart?"

"I can find such a place, but how do I get the creature to it?"

"My power extends across the vast gulf of space between us: behold..." her eyes blazed red and the Seer began to shrivel up, leaking a tar-like substance that began to wisp into smoke after hitting the floor. It was a gruesome scene, like watching a grape become a raisin at several hundred times regular speed. The final product was flat, like a beached jellyfish (which was actually a fair approximation of the thing's appearance from the outset). "Carry the creature to a place you feel is safe, and when you have done so let it soak in a liquid, whisper my name to it and I shall revitalize it."

"What of the headmaster, Lionheart? Is he still able to be of use to us?" Brazen asked, already suspecting what her answer would be but needing to hear it all the same.

"Leonardo's usefulness to our cause has ended. Do not expect mercy from me, Adam Taurus, for that is a human trait I am devoid of. Continue being useful and loyal to me and you shall never have to fear ending up like the cowardly headmaster of Haven."

Brazen picked up the jellyfish grimm and stowed it in the voluminous cloth of the robe's right handed sleeve. _Now to get out of this place and get back to the safehouse ... or should I get this grimm conduit set up before that?_ Adam weighed his options. His brothers would not get too worried if he was a bit late, and it would be best to keep the strange creature as far removed from the three of them together as possible. _I don't need to keep this a secret from myselves, but I should definitely keep myselves secret from Salem._

Brazen headed out of the school building, walking by the reporters and labourers still milling about. The reporter with the notepad from earlier watched him, approached him eagerly, and asked him "sir! Sir, do you have a statement about the recent attack on Kuchinashi? The people of Mistral want to know what their protectors are doing to safeguard the outlying towns, settlements and outposts!"

As before, Brazen waved her away. This time, she persisted in her questioning. "Sir, is Kuchinashi still standing? Please... I had family out there!"

He regarded her solemnly, "I am not involved with the matter. Leave me alone." He walked forward again, this time without her prancing along in his wake. He slipped out of the campus and made his way through the city, eventually making his way to the sewer tunnels which had given the three of him access to the city yesterday evening. He took the creature out from his robe and lay it on the filthy ground, which was certainly wet enough to meet its needs. _I need to get this done quickly, before I absorb too much of the smell of this place again._ He placed his hand upon it and whispered, "Salem". The grimm began reinflating, a process made all the more horrible by the alien _pops_ and _snaps_ that accompanied it.

"This place is safe?"

"It is a sewer. I hope you can't smell it. I will be able to return here easily enough, and if anyone happens upon your minion it will have an easy means of getting rid of the remains," Adam said wickedly and gestured towards the churning sludge flowing beside them. "I will return when I have found word on the Lady Fall."

"Succeed in this task, Adam." He waited for more, for the offer of a reward, before realizing that none was coming. It was an order, and success expected by his new friend.

He evacuated the sewer and made his way back to Lichen's safehouse. Sniffing his robe he sighed.

_I hope Lichen has a lot of soap lying around._

~J~

"So you didn't kill him?"

"No, I just hung out with him for a bit and I bought tickets for a ship to Vacuo. I'll learn more about Wukong, maybe figure out how to reach previously neutral faunus and turn them to our way of thinking, then head out from Vacuo to get to Vale." Dominic explained his logical reasoning to his present copy while putting a container of black hair dye on the wardrobe, admiring his jet-black hair in his reflection.

"I feel like killing him and sending him piece-by-piece to Blake would be better." Bedlam smiled at the thought, "just imagine her expression. Her despair."

"He's still a faunus."

"He shot us!"

"He did shoot us." Brazen interjected, climbing through the window illuminated by the light of the moon and the dim streetlights. "Sorry I'm late. Good to see I'm the last one back, though."

"Nice of you to join us," Dominic hissed, "what's with the goggles and scarf?"

"I met some nice young men who found it in their hearts to give me pertinent fashion advice."

Dominic and Bedlam shot each other a look. Adam Taurus might be well-versed at lying to others, but he at least knew when he was lying to himself.

"Tell me you didn't blow our cover."

Brazen shook his head, "don't fret, my darlings. They never knew what hit them."

Dominic sighed in exasperation.

"So did you at least kill any of Blake's friends today?" Bedlam asked.

"Nope." Brazen grinned maliciously, though, "I did make some progress, though. I made contact with Hazel's boss. Learned her name."

He suddenly had the rapt attention of himselves.

"Salem."

After explaining the events that took place at the school, he listened patiently as Dominic recited his day. Then Bedlam started talking about his day and Brazen decided to take a bath rather than listen to a rather meticulous description of the fifth hour of watching Blake through a window while she read a book on a couch. Dominic unfortunately had already used the bath, so while he did not have to suffer through a cold soak in used water he did have to endure Bedlam's attention to details obtained through their stolen set of binoculars.

Between him and Brazen he was readily certain that his twin had lucked out in the trade. Bedlam's manic glee in describing Belladonna shifting from one couch cushion to another was disturbing, obsessive.

Emerging back into their bedroom several minutes later, Brazen looked at his brothers and said "I think this goes without saying, but we have to promise to keep ourselves a secret from Salem, Blake, everyone."

"Of course," Dominic said. "For that reason, maybe it would be best if only you visited the jellyfish in the sewers? The sewer jelly. The smelly jelly."

Brazen and Bedlam laughed. Brazen corrected Dom, "I think she called it a Seer. Probably because she can see through it? Sort of uninspired, if you ask me."

"I hope she calls us Adam, instead of Sword-er."

"So long as she doesn't think of us as horny, it'll be fine."

"The relic is our best trump card, after all," Bedlam agreed while ignoring the direction of his brothers' bantering, "and the less time I have to spend in the sewers, the better."

"One for all, and all for me," the the other two recited.

"As much as I would love to debrief more about what we each did today, I would rather get some sleep first," Bedlam said as he lay back on the bed.

"Did you get back here first just so you could claim the bed a second time in a row?" Brazen asked.

"What? No, I didn't-"

"Yes. Yes he did. He really loves that bed so much and did exactly what you said," interrupted Dominic, leaving Bedlam looking upset for a moment, opening his mouth silently several times trying to craft a retort, then gave up and pulled the covers over his head. He did not like that Dominic was lying about who had gotten back first, but would accept it if it meant he got the bed instead of the floor.

Dominic lay down on the floor and offered his body again to his twin as a makeshift pillow as they had the prior evening. Brazen tossed his clothes aside in a pile and joined Dominic.

They fell into a quick sleep nestled against one another.

Content in his own arms, Dominic smiled.

~J~

Adam watched his clones in the bathroom of the homestead, drawing slowly closer to one another.

"Alright Dai, I really don't want to see where this is going."

**I think they're going to kiss. Imagine if they kiss! How much would you say that you love yourself, Adam?**

"Can I just focus on Bedlam for a bit? Try out that immersion thing you mentioned?"

**You do not wish to observe what is going on with Brazen and Dominic in the bathroom?**

Adam gave her a flat stare, which had the side benefit of avoiding watching himselves embrace tightly.

**Fine. Get up and touch the ring connected to Bedlam. Beddy. I want to call him Beddy now.**

"I'm going to ignore that for the time being," Adam said, suddenly released from the power that kept him seated. He went up to the first ring, presently focused on a tomato. He touched it, and then he _was_ Bedlam.

He stood in the garden and felt the warmth of the sun, the gentle breeze, the smell of the flowers and plants. He rejoiced in the sensations: something other than the prevalent green mist which he had become terrifyingly accustomed. No wonder Dai had hated being locked away beneath Beacon for so long. Of course she was attracted to the idea of living through him vicariously.

The idea stuck with him: she was encouraged to get people to use the Relic of Choice. The only recess from her prison was when she had a bearer, the only time she had company was when it was activated.

Whatever God or gods had devised the relic had not made it as a gift for the faunus and humanity any more than they had formed it as a torment for Dai. Which begged the question: what had she done to deserve being imprisoned so?

**Alright, you have missed some sensual moments in the house but you are moving along now Adams. Time to get back in your chair.** With a metaphysically unsettling lurch, Adam was brought back into the green expanse of Between Realms by Dai, who gently brought him back to where a bounty of fresh popcorn awaited them. **So did you like the field trip?**

She seemed a bit disappointed, her ears bent down like Blake's sometimes did. "What's got you down?"

**I thought they would kiss. They did not kiss.**

Adam sighed, "I'm not that narcissistic, Dai, that I have to get in my own pants the moment there are two of me."

**Whatever. Maybe things will change once you get to that town the girl mentioned.** Dai casually mentioned the kill without any change of expression. _Either she is very good at concealing her thoughts on that, or she feels as strongly about human life as I_ do.

Adam relaxed in his seat, while Dai provided a running commentary on the scenery as the trio made their way into Ilhari. She delighted in the scent of the summer flowers along the road, she muttered about the dingy conditions of the tavern. She complained that she liked Brazen's kimono disguise more than the unrevealing white robe.

**My eye-candy is being concealed more and more!**

Adam paid a minimal amount of attention to the three of him waiting for the train. His thoughts were reflecting upon his time spent in Bedlam's head. Thinking about the nature of Moonslice, of how his life had shaped him into the man he was today, and wondering what he would have been like if he had been born in Blake's position.

_More literate?_

Wondering what his life without having his aura unlocked, without Moonslice, would have been like.

_Happier?_


	8. Dude, Where's My Clone?

Dominic ran his fingers through Brazen's hair, admiring his clone. His hand reached the nape, then began retracing its path back to the base of the horns before following one of those up to the tip. Brazen's head lay on Dom's other arm, in the crux of the elbow so that his left hand was pinned to the floor. Brazen's blue eye fluttered open and stared into Dom's.

"Good morning," he whispered groggily as he took in the darkness of the room.

"Ready for another day?" Dom asked himself-but-not.

Brazen turned his head and stared at the ceiling. "I have to find Cinder. What are your plans for the day now that you have tickets for the ship to Vacuo?"

Dominic pondered the issue. While he could afford idleness, that would demean the gift of having three of himself at once. "There are things I can do while I wait for the ship to arrive, if it even arrives on schedule. It is a long trip from Vacuo that it is coming in from, and it is not like they have any way of communicating their progress." Dom considered getting up, but for now he was comfortable in Brazen's proximity so he remained still. "I could go investigate Ghira..."

"Make him suffer, make Blake know misery..." Bedlam muttered from above them where he lay in the room's single bed, "turn Ghira into an example of what happens to those who turn on us, make the Fang follow you out of pure fear, bring Blake crawling back like the mewling coward she is so that nobody else has to die for her sins."

"Stay away from Ghira, Bedlam," Brazen ordered, "your task is Blake. Just Blake, now. Right? We tried killing Ghira already and that did nothing for us. We don't need him becoming a martyr."

"I'm just saying, you could make my job easier for me and your job easier for you..."

"Faunus killing faunus is not much of a solution to anything, I think we can all agree on that now. Between Menagerie, Haven and what happened in our throne room, that lesson has been reinforced pretty hard." Dom interrupted, "I was saying that I could investigate Ghira, distinctly to discern what became of my forces captured during the battle rather than as a means to bring him harm. I'm pretty sure I know where they would be keeping them, so I will check there first, but if they are not there then Ghira is probably somehow connected to their detainment. It is a bit of a walk, but still technically in the city limits."

_Killing the faunus, even race-traitors, would do nothing for his cause now; he needed them to be converted to his way of thinking._

"Blake will come back with me." Bedlam muttered to himself, voicing their synchronized thoughts. Blake was still an ass-et that they didn't want to give up if they had alternatives.

"Sun has nothing on us, Bedlam." Dom gestured at his own nude body, flaunting his toned chest and his available bicep, "I'm confident that you'll succeed," he said to the elevated brother who had sunk back underneath the blankets he claimed through the night. "If it makes you feel better, if he is on the ship with me he won't be an obstacle for you."

"What if Blake goes on the ship with him? What if she wants to go to Vacuo, too? We have no idea what she and her team are going to do next!"

"Then it will be an easy fight. We can do it so that Blake is with one of me when anything unsettling occurs: we'll have an alibi. Use this duplication bit to the fullest! Anyways, if that's settled, yeah, I'll see what is going on with our imprisoned brothers from the night at Haven."

Bedlam grumbled to himself, but seemed to have no further objections worthy of being given voice.

"If our messenger is still there he might have some idea where Hazel holed up while he waited for the attack on Haven!" Brazen realized, "that would help me out! Even if Hazel does not still use the same place, Cinder might go there or there might be clues about where she would go."

"Yeah, that is what I was thinking."

"So you'll help him, but not me?"

"Ghira might get caught in the crossfire, but I am not planning on making a martyr of him. Other than that, I feel like I could put some feelers out to see what the consequences of the Haven incident were here. You know, socially."

Brazen lifted up his upper body, his legs still cuddled up to Dom's, "alright, so I guess that covers what each of us is doing today."

Bedlam got out of his luxury of blankets and strode over to the dresser, snatching up his clothes and disguise and donning them. He tossed the other sets of clothes to the pair on the floor.

"So, Salem?" Dom began looking at Brazen meaningfully. It was time they talk about that.

"She looked like a human grimm. Not like how Cinder was. She was completely pale, with black-red eyes and dark veins. Wore clothes like a person. She can control the grimm."

"Maybe it is a semblance?" Bedlam suggested, "there are some strange ones out there. Maybe one that lets someone control the grimm is possible."

"If I could control the grimm, I'd probably identify myself as one of them if humanity cast me out. Looks like that might be what happened to her?"

"Do we know what her end-game is?"

The trio looked between one another silently.

"Well, if she is out for revenge then we should be fine so long as we are helping her get it and don't become targets for her wrath ourselves. She seems to have it out for humanity, so we have a head-start in that racial race," Brazen stated jovially, "Bedlam, anything important to our missions that you picked up while observing Blake?"

"Not beyond the picture of Ghira and the Schnee cozying up." Bedlam finished getting dressed. "Do you want me to make a full profile of each of her allies?"

Brazen shrugged. Dominic nodded, "if you are going to be watching them around her anyways, you may as well."

"I'll be busy looking for Cinder, but did you think that instead of going out to check on the folks in lock-up you could head out to Hazel's ship where he left the kids?" Brazen said to Dom. Bedlam slipped out the window, giving them a quick wave goodbye before disappearing into the dark rooftops.

"I could, yes. But checking on White Fang prisoners actually plays into my goals more than helping you with yours like that. If there is a chance of learning something about why they failed me, I will find it there. Not out in the wilderness."

Brazen's body sagged, "yeah, that makes sense I guess."

Attuned as he was to his own emotions, Dom relented; "if you haven't found Cinder by tomorrow morning and if I have nothing better going on, I'll head out that way then," Dom responded, "but they might move the prisoners just as much as Hazel might get back to his ship early. Besides, maybe he knew we were listening."

"We doubt that." Brazen said.

"Hey, I'm trying to lie to myself. Cut me a break," Dom gave a toothy smile, "but is it my fault that Adam Taurus is a master of the art of stealth to the extent that Hazel did not notice us tailing him?" _Now it is our fault, not just mine, that I'm so damn good._

Brazen and Dom got dressed and headed out into the morning.

Dominic dropped down from an eavestrough to join Brazen after he left their hideout through the front door for appearances' sake, "what say we go find a place that serves breakfast?"

Brazen nodded, "I know a place nearby that should be open. Went there yesterday."

The pair found themselves eating a cheap breakfast at the tavern. They ate in silence, Brazen having grabbed a newspaper from a table and shared half of it with Dom. Dom's half seemed to be dedicated to sports and entertainment, which was a rather large business in Mistral. Operas, fighting tournaments, anything where human nobility could sit crowded around a stage or arena and watch others was considered high culture. In other kingdoms, such venues were used as vectors for charity campaigns: raising awareness, fighting social ills, promoting some political agenda. Not so in Mistral. The humans here adored pleasure for the sake of hedonism, and felt no shame in having no thin veneer of altruism to veil their indulgences.

Dom spent the requisite amount of time required to actually read a few articles, which were for the most part arguments against diverting funding from cultural endeavours towards military R&D or levies to defend their vast territories in the wake of the kingdom's shortage of huntsmen. Dom slowly shook his head at the eloquently crafted claims of the articles' authors: anyone who had confronted a grimm face-to-face, or actually understood life on the Mistral frontier, would never have their reason swept away by such spurious assertions. For that reason, the article was targeted towards the urbane populations of the city, that never left their protected streets and had been reassured of their safety and stability after their police force had been present to stymie Adam's efforts to destroy Haven Academy.

Dominic was not sure whether to feel bemused or ashamed that his defeat had somehow contributed to a verbose case defending Mistralian clown-operas. It would on one hand make the kingdom that much easier to conquer for his faunus forces on some future day, certainly.

_Clowns, though._ He shuddered, causing Brazen to look up at him from whatever his twin was reading.

"Something wrong with your parfait?" he asked, concerned, "I'm not actually sure what sort of milk was used in that parfait..."

Dom looked at the cup of yogurt, cereal and berries. He held it up and gave it a sniff. "I hope that's regular dairy."

Brazen held up his own parfait and sniffed it.

"As long as it is not bat-faunus milk..." they muttered together.

"Anything interesting in your section of the paper? Mine is just stupid stuff about theatre and sports betting results."

"No, it looks like it was written the day after the attack on Haven. Mostly just uninformed opinion pieces on what may have happened at the city summit, vague descriptions of a conflict. A story about five ducklings living in a local park."

"Seems like the Fang attacked Mistral during a slow news week," Dom assessed, "you would think the media would show a bit more gratitude." He punctuated the remark with a jerk of his head towards the window, where across the street was a prominently lit wanted poster featuring his face crowded in with those of Cinder, Hazel, Emerald and Mercury's. "Honestly, these people appreciate a good fight and drama more than common sense. We should have marketed the attack better, gotten a crowd, made a spectacle of it. It would have ended up making us some lien and good publicity."

"Come for the demolition of your social institution, stay for the fight between Cinder and Blake's huntress team?"

"There's our tagline right there." Dom spooned some parfait into his mouth, "lets go ask if we can have a do-over? I spent all day yesterday trying to buy tickets, might as well use what I learned trying to sell some."

Brazen laughed, loudly enough that the elderly human standing behind the bar snapped to attention for a moment and glared over at them. Brazen and Dominic hunched over, hiding their faces from his stare and behaving themselves quietly.

Brazen finished his breakfast and sighed, "maybe I should just head back out to check on Hazel's camp myself."

Dominic sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, "I thought you were figuring out where our missing friend was?" With the nearby human showing signs of being awake, he avoided saying the name of public enemy number two.

"Yeah, I thought that would be best, too. If the boss can see through one of her minions, I was sort of worried that her eyes would be everywhere, watching my progress. But if she does, then she either already knows where the girl is or even that has not gleaned the location. If she doesn't have eyes everywhere, then it gives us that much more leeway. So I've thought about it. I think I'll assume the latter, that she would not waste our talents on a test quest or a folly. If her semblance is what we think it is, then she can only see through her minions; not many of those just hanging about in the city. So since I don't know where the girl is, and since you are staying in town to do the things you've mentioned, I'll take off for a bit and retrace our steps to the ship. See how the kids and the big man are doing, though I bet he won't show up immediately."

Dom leaned in close, "what are you going to tell them? About _her_?"

"None of them ever told us the name of their boss, so I'll play it real cool," Brazen replied, "act aloof, treat it like I'm just looking for my paycheque now that the job is done and wondering if there is more work coming. Play up that I felt that the girl was in charge, unless Hazel is there. Then I'll just act like she was the one who hired me for the bit."

"Remember when he got blasted through the door? What he said to us?"

Each Adam recalled the awe, watching Hazel jam pure dust crystals into his arms. Blake's sudden, unexpected appearance.

The way the tide turned against him.

"He told us that it was our business, not his." Brazen put his chin in his hand, "so if I see him, I think that might come up in the conversation. I'll make it clear that I'm still allied to their cause, but that my business is with the girl, not him or her attendants unless I decide it is. I'll see if they know anything about the girl's fate. See what I can learn from them, but at the end of the day the girl is still our most powerful ally and we want to ensure that relationship is one that will continue."

"If you are gone for more than a week and my ship is late, I'll visit the place you left the jelly and take it on a cruise. I doubt Bedlam would care too much about maintaining that line of communication."

"Fair enough; at least you could use it as a makeshift life-preserver if the ship sinks. I should be back long before then." Brazen stood up, straightened his cloak over the bulge on his back to conceal the weapon, and began to walk out of the tavern, "see you soon."

Dom nodded and watched himself-in-disguise leave the tavern. He wolfed down the rest of his breakfast and shortly followed suit, walking back out into the streets of Mistral. He turned on his scroll and found directions to Mistral's notorious (at least among the White Fang) detention facility where his men were more-than-likely being held after being captured by the Menagerie militia and local police.

~J~

Dominic looked at the military police facility. High painted-white cement walls, roofed watchtowers with spotlights. Guards at the entrance and on the walls. All human, but in the light of day that did not make much of a difference. An attached building operated as a dispatch building for local police operations, and an airfield beside that lay empty though it could easily hold a half dozen airships. Probably where the ships that had descended upon him at the academy had been launched from. Where were they now? A quick scan of the skies didn't reveal them.

In fact, while there were guards manning the key locations of the walls and doors, overall the entire complex seemed underpopulated. He took out his scroll and used it to zoom in on the dispatch building. He was not surprised to see that most offices were empty. The authorities were somewhere else, and he felt like it would be in his best interests to find out where and why.

He checked his reflection in a nearby window, ensuring that his disguise was adequate for the task, before making his way to a nearby hardware store where he began walking through the aisles. When a clerk asked him if he needed any assistance, he politely declined, "I'm just looking for a bit of inspiration about what to do with my kitchen, figured while I was up here I could think about some other things I've got planned as well. I'm happy I managed to get here when there aren't that many other customers, gives me more space to think."

"Oh yeah, normally we're busier than this. Almost all the folks in the neighbourhood here work for the military, but they've all been sent out to maintain the border to help all of our huntsmen out there. Hard to argue against that, after what we all saw took place at Beacon, but now with Haven getting attacked you would think they would concentrate a bit more on city affairs. I've seen the posters plastered around town, some of those terrorists and maniacs still aren't caught!" the clerk confided in Dom, unaware of the irony of what he was saying, "but those that were get to rot across the way in the detention facility. Even with most local police sent out to protect that hick village that had a grimm attack, there's still lots of guards to keep them where they deserve to be."

"Hick village?"

"Oh yeah, it's all over the local news! Don't tell me you haven't seen any of it?"

"Well, with the stuff I'm doing in my kitchen I had to pack up my television, and I never really got the hang of getting news on my scroll," Dom said offhandedly, flashing his powered-down scroll as proof "I guess I'm just a bit of an old relic that way."

"Oh, well then a couple days ago a cargo train rolled into town full of the women and children of Kuchinashi. The train barely made it into the city. They all said that Kuchinashi was under attack, and had some videos to prove it, so the military flew out there in all the airships they had on hand. I don't want to say bad things about faunus or nothing, but they essentially deputized that ex-terrorist from Menagerie and his militia. Sure, they saved Haven but can we really trust them to help keep the peace here in our city?"

"Ghira Belladonna is in charge of Mistral's security?"

"Well, he's helping." the clerk muttered grouchily, "while he is in town with his animals waiting for voyage home, he's dealing with the crown prince to make 'lasting peaceful ties' with the people of Mistral."

"Strange bedfellows, eh?"

"If you think that's odd, you should hear who they're saying saved the train from Kuchinashi during its run into the city."

Dom took a step away and began idly massaging his back, his hand coming to rest on Blush's trigger, preparing to launch Wilt out from where it hid in his trench coat.

"Raven Branwen." The clerk misread Dom's surprised relief as scornful disbelief, "yeah, I know, right? Who wudda thunk a crazy murderer like that would do a half-decent thing like that outta the blue?"

_They're giving the credit for saving the train to that bandit rather than me?_ Dom raged internally. _Wait, did I even want that kind of publicity? At least they don't have any idea where I am. Where we are._

"The bandit from the hinterlands?"

"I know, right? What is she doing on the city outskirts on her own? There's a picture of her killing some big nevermore grimm. I think there are some papers lying around up at the cashier with her featured if you haven't seen 'em yet."

Dom had learned enough, and after getting some quotes on some kitchen upgrade packages, he took a look at the newspaper lying on the cashier counter. Visible on the front page, under the title **Government Reinforces Kuchinashi**, was an image of himself slicing through the body of the alpha nevermore juxtaposed with an image of Raven Branwen taken from an Atlas security drone at an earlier date. With the black feathers of a smaller nevermore clinging to his uncovered head and his dyed hair, coupled with the gleaming red blade (which he would admit seemed to be the same style as that brandished by the bandit woman in the smaller photo) and overall poor quality of the picture plus the large distance between the camera and the death of the nevermore, Dom could see how the people on the train could have confused him for her.

_And here I was, laughing with Bedlam at Brazen about his clothes getting him mistaken for being a girl back at Ilhari. This is karma. This is me, getting what I deserve, for mocking myself in good fun. Brazen must never see this headline._

Dom left the hardware store, pouting and confused after witnessing this erosion of his identity, and went back to observing the detention centre. _Come on, focus on the task at hand!_ What did he know so far?

The place was understaffed because of Kuchinashi. He would have an easier time infiltrating the building if there were fewer guards.

Ghira Belladonna's new Menagerie Militia was filling in for the local military police in the absence of human officers and local huntsmen. If they have faunus helping guard the prison at night, it would be harder to infiltrate and his brethren would have a special interest in keeping watch for him.

A plan began to form in Dom's mind. He was a master of disguise, right? He would tail one of the humans who worked at the facility and just assume their position, walking into the place in broad daylight. All he would need is their uniform and badge, maybe some access codes. It was rather helpful that the uniform used by the Mistral military police was so concealing of identifying facial features, with its large hat and mouth-covering mask. His branded eye would pose a bit of a problem, though. _Why did I never get the Fang to wear air-filtration gear? Sienna and I even had to run through a cloud of knock-out gas that one time..._

A lanky fellow left the detention centre, evidently on his way home from work. As tempting as it would be to grab the first one he saw, Dom knew he would have to wait. If he wanted to do this right, he would need someone whose shift started now, not ended. Which meant waiting for the current shift to end and doing this entire bit the following day. He sighed. Hopefully the grimm at Kuchinashi would put up enough of a fight for the troops to remain away from the station for that long. Or maybe they would stay around for the good publicity? Hours passed and he made himself nondescript and comfortable, or as comfortable as he could be. The prison was far away from the prestige of the twin-mountain city's higher reaches, but on the far side of the city from the neglected faunus district and so few of his people were seen on the streets here. Those that he did see seemed to be servants serving humans in some capacity. When two faunus emerged from the front doors of the dispatch building attached to the prison he was watching Dominic took notice. Their civilian clothes and cheerful (and loud) chatter indicated that they were something other than minor convicts freshly released from their terms. Dom positioned himself on an intercept course with them, trying to not appear overtly interested in their affairs but ensuring he was close enough to overhear snippets of their conversation with his keen ears.

"...wants us to go home, why does he think we should help the Mistral military investigate the White Fang headquarters?"

"It's not like we knew where the place was until a few hours ago, Barnes." Dom shook his head at hearing that; it seemed like his captured soldiers' loose lips were giving away the Fang's secrets. _I did suspect them of such when the grimm were storming the base, though, so I guess they actually held out longer than I thought they would?_ Fortunately Ghira and the Mistral government would walk into a ruin, but he was still a bit upset at the principle of being betrayed. If they had not surrendered so quickly, if they had gone down fighting or gotten away from the melee, perhaps the state of the headquarters would have remained a mystery indefinitely. Maybe he would have some extra eyes and ears, rather than having to do all this legwork himselves.

_I wonder if any of the grimm are still in there,_ he pondered hopefully. It would be nice if his enemies suffered at least some casualties getting to his throne room.

"I know, but I mean when we signed up for this bit I was under the impression that our goal was to save the huntsmen school from Taurus' extremists, prevent him from giving faunus a bad name abroad and get back home. What's next? Helping them with bandits?"

_They didn't care so much about their international reputation when I was breaking them out of human cages, the ingrates!_

"Have we really done the second part yet if he is still at large?" not-Barnes asked, "if there's a chance of him rallying whatever is left at his base, we need to put out that fire before it spreads. If the New Fang has any chance of success, it has to be built on a new foundation. It has to be built on humanity trusting that Adam's message of hate is not one we accept or turn a blind eye to anymore."

"Okay okay, don't get into a whole spiel about the New Fang. You know I don't want to get that involved in this mess. I just came because the wife did and I wanted to make sure the tower didn't go down like at Beacon."

"Well if it is any consolation, we'll be heading back to Menagerie after Adam's base is cleared out and Ghira comes to an agreement with the government here about what to do with the Fang they captured at Haven," the second faunus stated.

Barnes gave a derisive snort, "like any of them are actually contrite about what they've done. They're just trying to weasel out of getting punished by the human courts and are hoping that Ghira will be more lenient with them if they make it to Menagerie." Barnes thought about it for a moment, then continued, "and they're probably right to think so. That Ilia girl got off spotless despite helping the Albains try to kill his family and burn his house. If she can get away with that, they're futures are looking pretty rosy."

"You're really not one to talk about weaseling out of things..."

"Man, that's straight up racist."

"You're the one who said it, and don't think I missed that spotless bit either." Dominic wondered what Ilia would think of her fellow race-traitors joking about her faunus freckles.

"It's a common turn of phrase." Barnes retorted, "besides these ears are pure vole and you know it."

The pair continued walking and Dominic turned away from them. He had heard enough. It seemed like the expedition to Kuchinashi was going to be extended out past Ilhari to scout out his old base. Ghira was reforming his original faunus rights movement, using Adam's defeat as a springboard. His own species wanted him captured as much as the humans wanted him put down. His people detained in the prison seemed to be hopeful (rightfully so) of getting released to Menagerie custody. If that happened...

If that happened, Dom felt it would probably be in all of their best interests to let that happen the way Ghira wanted. Dom could use his minions, yes, but they would not willingly follow him if he messed up a rather cozy plea deal they had set up. They would resent him for ruining their chances of living happily ever after in the garbage continent that the humans had bequeathed them as a means of preventing the faunus uprising from completely toppling their wretched societies. The only way his people in the prison would be of any use to him would be if Ghira somehow failed to get custody of them, leaving them free to be freed from human captors by Dom.

Ghira was very persuasive when he wanted to be, when people gave him time to speak rather than shooting at him. Dominic expected his captured forces to be doing community service in Menagerie before the end of the year.

_Alright, so I think I've achieved what I wanted to here. The only reason for breaking into the prison now is to see if my messenger is still in there, to see if he will tell me where Hazel holed up. That info is only useful to Brazen, though. Probably not even useful to him, if the way they're spilling secrets is any indication. If I was Hazel, I would not go back to the same safe-house or hideout as before. He has no reason to trust the White Fang right now._

Dominic pursed his lips.

_I have no reason to trust the White Fang right now, either._

He considered whether or not going back to Vale would even accomplish anything. The doubts faded slowly, lingering with him as he made his way back through the sunset-shadowed backstreets of Mistral on his way back to Lichen's, which he would probably not reach until the early morning. Every kingdom's branch of the White Fang operated differently. Mistral's had been ambitious but unprepared. Sienna had spoiled them, made them soft and pliable. Easy to turn to his message, but when push came to shove they buckled. The Fang in Vale was covert, patient, and willing to do what needed to be done for the cause. They had tasted victory, too, and knew that it was Adam who had given them that delicacy. Vacuo... what existed as the White Fang there was probably the closest thing to Ghira's original ideal as anything: faunus being treated equally before the lack of law, fully able to live or die in the scorched paradise as any other sentient being.

Adam had grown up in Atlas, of course. The Fang in Atlas had been insidious like the one in Vale, militaristic and aggressive like the Mistralian branch, and a prevalent part of faunus culture like the Menagerie branch had been. As tempting as it was to return to Atlas, the Fang there had a capable leader and he had grown tired of fighting other faunus of late; even if Ghira took control of the Menagerie and Mistralian-based faunus with his new White Fang movement, the Atlas branch would maintain its present course. The leader in Atlas had easily gained traction with Atlesian faunus against the backdrop of Jacques Schnee's SDC, even while the same organization ruthlessly pushed to exterminate each vestige of the rights movement it exposed. It was a difficult fight for the SDC, because it is hard to destroy a foe you also want to keep alive to fill your workforce.

Dominic hated the fact that, no matter how much damage the White Fang did to the SDC or the Schnee family, they still managed to be profitable. It nearly made him want to go find the Schnee girl that Bedlam had documented Ghira talking to and...

Dominic's aura shattered.

The handful of bystanders who happened to be out so late into the night looked at him in alarm. He stood motionless for a moment, awestruck by what had just happened. Adrenaline surged into his veins and he dodged to the side. What had hit him? His senses had not alerted him to any threat, to anything nearby. He had not even seen what had hit him!

He rolled into a crouch and launched Wilt out of his back, catching it before it could blast away across the street. He might not have aura, but he could still deflect incoming shots! The scattered bystanders had already begun putting distance between him and themselves, so that only one actually saw his weapon drawn. Dominic locked eyes with the man, a middle-aged human, but found only confusion and terror there. Was it a ruse? Or was the man just shocked at what he saw? Dominic scanned the street with his night-vision for anything else. The rooftops: clear. The windows: clear. The remaining man began to jog away, frightened. It was quiet.

"What the hell was that?" Dom stalked out into the middle of the street, holding Wilt up defensively, ready for anything. Whatever had hit him had taken out his aura in a single blow.

_My aura that I had not even had up._

How could his defensive aura shatter if he was not concentrating on maintaining it? It defied everything he knew, everything he had ever been taught about how aura functioned. He quickly pulled out his scroll and turned it on, his bad eye watching the loading screen while the rest of his senses maintained a wary awareness of his surroundings.

AURA: 0%

Nothing had hit him. Dominic understood what had happened before he saw the reading. It was like on the train. Their aura was shared between them. He had not noticed the degeneration of his aura because he had not been concentrating on it, had not realized it was being whittled away, had not had his scroll on to monitor it.

He was not in danger, but somewhere an Adam Taurus was.

Someone had hurt one of his brothers.

Who that someone could be was not a short list. Dominic continued to make his way back to Lichen's house, wary of the strong possibility that he would be walking into an ambush in a few minutes. If Bedlam had been the first to arrive at their hideout, maybe Lichen and Salt had betrayed him. He considered avoiding the house entirely, before eschewing the idea: he had to know if he could trust them. If they had betrayed him, they would not be expecting him to come home _again_. Their reactions to his arrival would tell him everything he needed to know. If they were shocked, then their treachery would be evident.

That would really make the quotes he got for renovating her kitchen a complete waste of his time. _Dammit, and I really liked that dark granite counter-top option!_

~J~

The forest was raucous with the cries of wildlife. Squirrels screamed at each other, fighting over acorns. Insects gathered in swarms to mate, then again to pester him. Gnats. Blackflies. Brazen tried to swat them away, careful not to make too much sound in doing so. He had been running for hours, covering a lot of ground, but it would still be a long hike until he reached the place where he had parted from his allies and their bullhead transport.

_Bullhead_, he thought. He had always found himself equally attracted to the vehicles and put-off. Their utility aside, the naming of the vehicle always gave Adam pause to think. When he had first learned how to operate vehicles, the instructors had started him with the bullhead because of his faunus features. They had figured that it was a solid joke. Oh, but how Adam had loved rising into the sky, high above everything. The metal wings gleaming in the light of the day and in the albedo from the snow below as he left the mining camp behind. The joke had been on them: Adam had fallen in love that day. He had surprised the taskmaster with his rapidly developed skill at the controls of the transport, and from then on his life had begun to change.

Now here he was, alone in the woods of Mistral, far from the mines of Mantle, sweaty and covered in bugs, heading unerringly towards a camp of humans. What a life.

The sun was still a while from setting. He was not sure how long it would take him to reach the camp, or whether it would be more appropriate to find them in the dark or in the light of day. Brazen kept walking forward. The sooner he got to their camp the better. His position of strength would be established by what he had to offer them, by how much they still needed him, not by their inability to see in the dark.

He came upon a small house in the woods. An unprotected bicycle lay against a shed.

_What a great way of getting around_, he thought. He appropriated the device in the name of faunus supremacy. It was no bullhead, but it was still a means of travel. _Between this thing and not having to slowly stalk a group of wounded humans carrying one another through the dark around military checkpoints set up to catch them, I might actually make it to their camp before the end of the day_. His mind fell back to the delirium of wandering through these same woods, lost and full of doubt, that he had experienced less than a week earlier. It seemed like it had been a longer time._ Maybe it is because I am sleeping less_ _now_.

After several more hours of pedalling along the forest trails, he knew he was getting close. He didn't question how he knew, maybe it was instinct, maybe he just had a better memory. His sense of direction, like his hearing, was just _better_ than others', which had always suited him just fine. _My coworkers had named me after the mythical beast of the labyrinth for a reason. I never got lost in the mines, just trapped. Just left behind._ He stashed the stolen bicycle under a fallen tree trunk, and removed the white cloak as well. He would come back to get it later.

He took out his White Fang mask and put it on. It felt strange, wearing the mask again. He had worn it constantly for so long, then suddenly gone without it. Putting it back on stirred up a mix of emotions within him that he shoved away to deal with later. Later, when he was not dealing with his human contacts. He put Wilt and Blush at his hip, which was certainly much more accessible and comfortable than having them shoved down the back of his shirt.

The sun had nested behind the hills in the distance, casting an orange glow through the forest and stretching the shadows of trees across the ground. He saw a flickering light in the distance ahead and recognized the area. Approaching closer, he heard the sound of the fire and the voice of Mercury Black bouncing through the trees.

"...first watch yesterday so how about you take first watch tonight? I've been exercising all afternoon, I need a break."

"As you desire, Master Black," responded a masculine, monotone voice. Brazen assumed that would be the voice of the bullhead's pilot. "Master Black, someone is approaching the camp."

"Is it Hazel?" Mercury inquired before shouting into the woods, "HAZEL?" The shout was followed by the sound of him cocking his legs. _Because each one is also a gun_.

"It is not Hazel." Brazen responded at equal volume, "it is Taurus."

"Adam?" Mercury seemed a bit dumbfounded by the unexpected arrival, "the leader of the White Fang?"

"Some would say that. After Haven, some would not," he replied curtly, not really wanting to talk too much about the state of the White Fang at this meeting, "I followed your group here after the attack went sideways at Haven, so I knew you were holed up here with Emerald while Hazel went back into town. I take it that you have not heard from him since he backtracked if your shouting is proper indication?"

"No, just us and the wildlife for days. It's not a big deal, Hazel will come back eventually. And if he doesn't, we'll just head out without him. He is a big boy and can take care of himself."

"I concur. I have been in Mistral, and there are no reports of any of us being captured aside from my forces."

"How many did you lose at Haven?"

_The first test of whether they value me or my troops_, "the Menagerie Militia captured all of my people who participated in the attack on the school."

"I'm going to guess you don't really want to talk about that, then." Brazen stepped into the clearing now and saw the rifle-wielding pilot and Mercury both in defensive stances while the green-haired Emerald lay motionless in a sleeping bag, her forehead covered in a wet towel. He had to admire Mercury's apparent civil diplomacy in moving the conversation away from the failure at Haven, though the desire might be shared by the metal-themed lackey for his party's own failure that dreadful evening. "So what did you come out here for?"

"Oh, just thought I would take a late night constitutional," Brazen joked, though it failed to ease the tension between them; "I'd been seeking Hazel in town, but figured this might be the more direct way of finding him. I did not know where he was staying in town. The people I had liaising with him while we organized the attack were... they are no longer able to communicate his previous address." They were in a Mistral prison or their corpses were lying in his throne room, but Mercury didn't need to know the specifics. "What is your plan for when he returns?"

"We head back to the boss, tell her what happened, get new orders."

"I was hoping to find Hazel in order to get some direction towards Cinder. Where is Cinder?"

Mercury looked at Emerald, crouched beside his comrade and checked her vitals. He seemed satisfied with that and stood up before stage-whispering, "Cinder failed. She lost the fight. There's no way she would have run away with everything on the line, so that just leaves one conclusion. Emerald is a bit... Em's a mess because of that."

"I see." Cinder was dead, according to Mercury. "Did you see her fall, though? Not a pun on her name, I need confirmation of her fate. Ostensibly I was working for her."

"Can't say I did. She went down into the vault with the bandit we needed, the bandit's leader Raven Branwen, then Branwen's daughter Yang got in there, too, because she came with her sister Ruby and got past us when Blake joined the fight from outside." Brazen tactfully ignored the subtle jab Mercury made at the White Fang for not being able to prevent intruders from getting inside.

"Which one was Yang?" Brazen had to know for sure, even though he suspected the answer.

"Blonde one from Ruby's team. Or Blake's team, I guess you would say. Blake's partner at Beacon." Mercury sat back down, and the pilot lowered his weapon and moved to the perimeter to keep watch for more unexpected incursions to the camp.

"Adam Taurus, did you come alone?" the pilot asked.

"Yeah, just me. What is your deal?"

"I serve."

"Don't mind him, he's more machine and grimm than human." Mercury whispered, "one of our associates' work. Kind of messed up if you think too much about it, so I try not to. He still knows how to fly a bullhead and is an extra set of senses that lets me get some sleep out here, among other things."

"So Blake's partner Yang, or Yang's mother, or both of them, went into a vault to fight Cinder?"

"Yeah, there was definitely a fight down there from the rumbling and explosions we heard. Only Yang came out with the objective we wanted from the entire effort, looking all calm and composed about it. No way Cinder would have let her get back up if she could still move."

"Yang killed her own mother?" _That doesn't really seem like something that huntresses would do. Or something that most people would do._

Mercury made a long, exaggerated shrug. "Branwen's semblance lets her teleport, make portals. That's how we all got into the building." Brazen nodded; _that answers that mystery; here I thought my troops' perimeter was more porous than it actually was but it seems that my friends got in using an unexpected entrance_.

"So maybe Branwen and Cinder took a portal out of there?"

Mercury laughed, "I doubt it. The plan was to lure Branwen and her ward to the vault and kill them there after they opened the door, since we could not trust them to not take the objective for themselves."

He wondered for a moment why they would have need for the random bandit to open a door beneath a huntsmen academy, but he could not spare much thought on that when the former bit commanded more concern. It seemed that Lionheart was not the only casualty that night of allying with Salem. Brazen tilted his head to the side, "is that how you treat all your allies, human? Lionheart is also dead. It tarnishes your trustworthiness as an ally."

Mercury's eyes darted to where Brazen's hand sat on the hilt of Wilt at his hip. "Simmer down, man. Branwen wasn't an ally like you are. Hell, she would count herself an enemy of our cause. She had nothing to gain from working with us, so we had to really sweeten the pot to get her onboard. That is why we had to bring Blake's team to the school, so that she could have a shot at killing her twin brother. With you we just had to show you that we were on the same side after a few early miscommunications!" Brazen digested that quickly: internecine drama of the Branwen family aside, it was somewhat comforting to know that Salem considered him closer to her cause than the human bandit. Mercury continued, "Cinder never made any plans against you. None that I knew of, anyways, and I think that counts for a bit. In fact, if you're interested I'm sure Hazel would agree that you should come back with us to meet the boss, become a member of the inner circle now that Cinder's seat is..." he trailed off at the end, not wanting to complete the statement.

"A tempting offer, but if there is a chance that Cinder is still alive here I need to pursue that lead. Like I mentioned before, there are no reports of any of us being captured besides my forces; the town is plastered wall to wall with images of Cinder and the rest of us as wanted criminals, so that means Yang didn't know what happened to Cinder, either, or that she is still alive. If your new orders need you to find me, I'll probably still be in the city until I've found Cinder or what is left of her." Brazen said, "but I've got an uncanny feeling your boss could track me down even if I'm elsewhere."

Mercury nodded. "So what else do you want to chat about? I was going to take a break to sleep, but having fresh company has reinvigorated me. That thing is not much for conversation, and Emerald isn't much better lately."

"What are the odds that Branwen forced your hand, made you get Blake's team to the school so that the plan would fail at your end? The original plan was foolproof, as far as I understood it." Not knowing the bandit beyond her reputation and what Mercury had told him tonight, Brazen was suspicious that she had played Cinder like a cheap banjo. He did wonder for a moment why Branwen's face was not sharing space with his on the wanted posters throughout the city: it did seem to implicate her as being allied to Blake's team. He tried not to think about how the night would have still gone smoothly had Menagerie not intervened as they had. _I can't start blaming myself for what Blake does_._ If anyone should be doing that, it's Bedlam, and he can channel those feelings into dealing with her personally.  
_

"She's didn't seem the type to be able to concoct a plan like that with the short notice we gave her; we did sort of show up uninvited to her doorstep." _Brazen could relate to the bandit on how that usually felt_. Mercury looked away, "but things did sort of spin out of control the moment we got in touch with her. Maybe she did somehow orchestrate the entire thing without me seeing it? Doesn't matter now, the past is done and gone. If we see Branwen again, none of us are going to be showing her any mercy and she has no chips left to bargain with us."

It was not like Brazen cared overly much for the welfare of a human bandit he had never met, so he nodded in agreement with what Mercury said. He didn't care much about Emerald, either, but he still asked "what is Emerald's present condition?" for the sake of knowing as much as he could about his allies.

"Dear old Em here busted her brain up pretty fierce at the end of the fight at the school. When she saw Yang come back up with the rel... with the prize, she figured that Cinder was dead. She poured all her remaining power into a big phantasm that stunned Blake's teammates, which let Hazel and I leg it out of there. Now she's pretty much sleeping it off. The bullhead had some medical stuff onboard that is helping, but she just needs some time to recuperate."

Brazen crouched next to the fire across from Emerald and Mercury. _So_ _Yang has a relic, l___ike the one from Beacon,_ and Blake is back with her team which makes Bedlam's observations more crucial to my own goals. _Brazen imagined the pair of them crouched on a rooftop, stalking team RWBY together. _I couldn't ask for better company, at least_. He yearned to ask about the relic under Haven that they had been after, but if he did so now it would expose that he knew of the relic that had waited under Beacon. That was a can of worms he would not open.

"So what can we expect from the White Fang now?" Mercury asked, breaking Brazen out of his thoughts.

"Blake's father is reorganizing it into a peaceful faunus rights movement. He is working with the human officials in Mistral. I saw him spending time with Blake's team, including the Schnee." Brazen pulled out his scroll and showed the picture to Mercury.

Mercury looked at the picture and hummed while nodding his head. Brazen put the scroll away and they sat silently for a spell, neither one looking away from the other.

With a fair amount of trepidation in his voice, Mercury blurted out, "just so we're clear, you know I was never really cool with the whole 'humans should serve the faunus' message you were selling, right? Not that I'm on board with the present racism stuff, but swinging it to the other side just seemed like a step sideways."

Brazen could understand why, given what species the boy across the flames was. "What is your boss?"

"She's not faunus."

"Is she human?"

He stared at the fire for a minute without answering. Just as Brazen began to feel like he would not get anything else on the subject, "she's not faunus, but I think she hates humans more than you do."

"That's a pretty high bar." He had evaded the question, which implied that perhaps he did not know what he served. Mercury seemed uncomfortable. _Good_. "To answer the question, though, you can expect the new White Fang to be a wellspring of stability and understanding between the populations of Mistral and Menagerie. That is what Ghira Belladonna would want it to be. He is a natural politician, held back only by the fact that no human has ever willingly given him a platform to speak from."

"Hazel should be back tomorrow. He left four days ago in the early morning, said he would be back in five..." _Mercury is afraid I'm here to fight him. He thinks I'll stand down if Hazel would become involved._

"He'll find the four of us waiting for him, then." Brazen promised, which made Mercury relax a bit. The human was getting a bit too worried about whether or not he and the pilot could take Taurus in a fight in their current states. "In the meantime, I think you know how I came to associate with Miss Fall, but I would love to know your story. What made you follow her? Did she show up at your house, burn it down and offer you money and supplies if you agreed to tag along?"

"No, I'd already burnt my house down when she showed up." Mercury gave a wry snicker, which quickly became a chuckle before evolving into full-blown laughter. "She shows up, looking for my fucking dad, piece of shit murderer-for-hire that he was, only to find me crawling away from our burning house with his corpse on the lawn."

"Who killed him?"

Mercury smiled darkly. Brazen reconsidered his view on the Branwen family: maybe they were not the outliers he had thought they were. Maybe the Belladonnas were the strange ones for not trying to kill one another at every opportunity. Certainly his own family had done just as poorly by him, letting him grow up under the care of the SDC.

"So she asked me if I was anything like my father. A killer, an assassin."

"Are you?"

"Trained my entire life to live up to his expectations. Then, right after I kill him, Cinder shows up with a job. Perfect timing, really."

They stared at the fire.

"Do you believe in fate?" Mercury asked, "because I believe in winning. Living. Playing the hand life deals me to the fullest. Life has dealt me some poor cards for a long time, but I think I've finally got a set I can win with. The boss has promised those who follow orders top billing in the new world that is coming. Human, faunus, none of that will matter anymore. If you're still someone who wants that..."

"Sienna Khan, the leader of the White Fang before me, believed in extorting rights and liberty for the faunus from humanity at gunpoint. I wanted more than that." Brazen muttered, "but no matter what happened, I wanted to be the one that the faunus saw as the one to win the world for them."

"You want your people to be safe, but reckon you deserve some credit for seeing it happen?"

"Is it so much to ask? Getting what I deserve after a lifetime of strife?"

"Not if you ask me. This world is properly fucked up. Monsters eating children, kingdoms sending soldiers to die for causes that nobody understands, fighting for land when most of the planet is uninhabited."

"A lack of ethically produced carbonated beverages..."

"I guess?" Mercury shrugged, "whatever it is, this entire society is not working for anyone except a select few at the top. If it were up to me, if I were at the top, I would try to make sure the people at the bottom weren't so bad off. Everyone should get a few good cards from time to time."

"M..merc...mercury?" Emerald stirred where she lay, her hand coming up to her face to grasp the towel.

"Em! You're awake!" Mercury spun around, turning his back to Brazen, and began helping his companion.

"My head hurts..."

"Just rest, keep lying still. You're safe here, we're okay." The boy held his injured teammate with a tenderness and delicacy that surprised Brazen, who would have expected the human to relish Emerald's infirmity.

"Cinder?"

Mercury looked away.

Emerald began to have dry heaves, trying to cry but too dehydrated and tired to do it right. Mercury eased her back down onto her headrest.

"I'll find out what happened to her." Brazen said.

"Who?"

"Adam's here, too, Emerald. He is going to keep looking for Cinder. He thinks there might still be a chance that he can track her down, but we have to get back to the tower. We need to make sure you're safe in case... in case you're feeling more _seasoned_ after that fight."

Emerald nodded before she began trying to cry again. Brazen knew that he was missing something in the conversation, but couldn't figure out what it was. Clearly there were still some secrets between himself and them.

Or, more accurately, he should say between himselves and them.

_Keep your secrets, then,_ Brazen thought, _I know at least some of yours: Salem. Relics._

Brazen and the pilot watched as Emerald and Mercury fell back into slumber, as the fire died out, as the stars peeked out from between the overcast sky. The waning half-moon illuminated a cloud, but was itself concealed. Its tail extended long enough to emerge at times, but otherwise remained hidden.

He moved up and approached the pilot. "So, you are human?"

"Was. Was improved. Now serve in whatever capacities are required," the creature responded while slowly patrolling around the edge of the camp. Suddenly it stopped and pointed its rifle towards where Brazen sat. "Someone is approaching the camp."

Brazen spun around and out in the distance he saw the flickering of a light meandering towards them through the forest: whoever it was, they lacked the stealth that Brazen possessed, allowing the pilot to detect them from a much greater distance. Brazen poked Mercury with his boot a couple times.

"Wassit?" Mercury slurred out groggily as his eyes fluttered open.

"Someone else is coming. Get up."

Mercury got up, "yea, more visitors. Great." He yawned loudly, stretched his arms, then shouted towards the distant speck of light "HAZEL?"

The light blinked on and off. Brazen turned to Mercury, "is that some sort of signal?"

Mercury raised his hands in an 'I-don't-know' gesture, "maybe?" Brazen drew Wilt.

The trio watched the light get closer to their camp until eventually Hazel's voice reverbrated through the gaps of the trees, "don't go yelling my name like that, boy. We're not the only ones in these woods." The giant man burst through the foliage into the clearing, where his eyes quickly focused on Brazen.

"Taurus."

"Hazel. I was wondering if you would make it back here."

"Mercury, what is he doing here?"

"He came looking for you, Hazel. Hasn't been here that long. Did you find what you were looking for back in the city?"

Hazel shot Mercury a withering glower, which shut the steel-headed youth up straight away.

"What are you doing here, Taurus?"

"I'm tracking down Cinder. I did have some agreements with her, regarding my services being brought to Mistral."

"Cinder's dead."

"Did she die, or is she just dead to you?" Brazen asked, idly spinning Wilt in small circles aimed at the ground, "Mercury seems to think that Branwen could have given her an opportunity to get out of the school."

Hazel shot Mercury another fierce look, which made the young assassin shrink back into his clothes like a turtle shell. "Cinder is not here."

"I am fully capable of seeing _that_," Brazen said, "but there is also the entire issue of Haven itself and how that did not go as planned. Your last minute changes to the agreed-upon scheme brought everything crashing down around us. Around me. The White Fang is ruined in Mistral. Was this your plan all along, to undermine our strength? Does that serve your master's grand scheme?"

"You are angry, Taurus. We do not need to fight here. We still stand on the same side."

They stared each other down.

"If you weren't looking for Cinder in the city, why did you leave these three out here to return?"

Hazel narrowed his eyes, then growled. "You ask a lot, Taurus. You ask a lot and offer little. I could say that it was your own people who brought you low that night. What are you to us without your people behind you? What good is a single faunus with a sword to our cause now? I warned you that your violent seizure of power was unnecessary."

"What were you looking for in Mistral?" Brazen challenged him again. Wilt slowly rose to become perpendicular with the ground. Mercury looked back and forth between the faunus and the giant, slowly backing away from the former. "If you still consider me an ally, we need to have some level of trust. It's not like I can turn you in for your bounties to the authorities." Brazen's ears noted Mercury moving further, trying to flank him.

The pilot walked in between them and stowed its weapon, "this conflict does not serve. Stand down."

Brazen's aura shattered. Brazen rolled to the side, springing back up to his feet and moving into the underbrush.

"Emerald, what did you do?" he heard Mercury shout, spinning around. Hazel roared.

"Adam Taurus, your aura has broken," the pilot loudly stated, as if it was not obvious to all present.

Brazen sprinted into the treeline and became one with the shadows as Hazel clumsily tore through the underbrush after him. Brazen pulled out his scroll and turned it on, letting it load up FlamingOS as he moved erratically through the trees.

"Taurus!" he heard Hazel bellow.

He looked at his aura tracker application on his scroll, hardly believing that his aura had been taken out so quickly. He had not even sensed the danger, which made him surmise that the aura shatter had merely been one of Emerald's illusions.

AURA: 0%

Out of sight of Emerald, he had no choice to trust the device. His aura _was_ gone. Had Mercury managed to strike him so stealthily? Maybe the pilot had been responsible; it was an unknown factor.

"Taurus!" Hazel shouted, emerging from the bushes in front of him while he had been distracted by his scroll's readings. Hazel grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. "What's happening?" Hazel dropped him, letting him fall a foot and a half back to the ground, "why did your aura break?"

If Hazel wasn't fighting him, and Emerald or Mercury hadn't shot him in the back... he had not even been maintaining his aura defensively when it broke. If someone had hurt him, he would simply have taken the blow as if he had no aura. Brazen's mind raced and eventually settled on the memory of Hazel flying out into the courtyard of Haven in front of all of the assembled White Fang; "none of your concern."

One possibility remained, learned from the fight on the train and his memory of Dai's quick tutorial on his new condition: someone had hurt him, just not this him. Bedlam or Dominic were in peril back in the city.

_So am I, _he thought bitterly as Hazel stood in front of him waiting for an explanation. _Time for a good lie_.

"I need to meditate and relax. My aura has changed since Haven. I've been working on getting it back to normal."

Hazel's face remained ripe with suspicion, but he nodded. "I am not your enemy, Adam Taurus. Despite the stress from our defeat, our goals are yet aligned with one another's." The pair of them headed back to the camp, where Mercury and the pilot had gotten the fire going again.

"Emerald's still passed out. She didn't do anything! Neither did I! What happened? Why did his shield just break like that?"

"Not sure. He needs to rest, certainly." Hazel sat down by the fire. "When your identity is changed suddenly, it can have negative effects on your ability to control your aura. Perhaps the defeat at Haven hurt you in ways you did not consider, Taurus. Meditation and introspection are good ways to overcome such psychological adversities."

Brazen sat by the fire for a few minutes and cleared his mind of thought, which was understandably difficult. After a few minutes of this, he looked at his scroll.

AURA: 3%

_Progress, at least_, Brazen thought, noting that his aura was regenerating faster than it did before his split. He quieted his thoughts again. If one of his brothers was in a dire situation, his ability to help regenerate their shared aura might mean the difference between life and death.

His aura shattered again. AURA: 0%. Mercury shouted out a string of profanity, while Hazel just raised an eyebrow curiously.

Brazen continued to try to meditate, but his aura now stuck at 0%. Did both of his brothers suffer massive injuries? He had to get back to Mistral. Someone was preventing his aura from regenerating, and that just _would not do at all_.

He stood up. "I'll be in the city. I still have business there. What are your plans?"

"I was checking in with Mercury and Emerald as I had promised them I would. I still have not found what I needed in the city." Hazel turned to Mercury, "I'll be in town for another five days looking for answers. We can't go back to her without something to show for our time here."

Brazen began to walk back towards the city. Hazel's footsteps followed.

After a while, they arrived at the stolen bicycle and his disguise. Brazen took a quick selfie of himself in his disguise and set it as his scroll's background image.

"I guess I won't be returning this bicycle," he mused. He and Hazel would have to return to the city on foot together, which suited him and his lack of aura just fine.

"Salem," Hazel said after they had walked through the forest for a few hours.

Brazen stopped and looked at his human companion.

"The one we serve. Her name is Salem," Hazel continued, "you wanted a demonstration of trust. That is something I can offer you towards that."

Brazen nodded, appreciating the revelation.

"I'm sure Cinder will tell me the rest when I find her." This elicited a grunt from Hazel, a noncommittal sound that expressed his neutrality in the consideration of her present status.

They resumed their silent return to the city.


	9. Muted Sensations

Dominic ran his fingers through his hair, interposing his hand between his black locks and the pillow. Neither Bedlam nor Brazen had returned to Lichen's house. The good news was that he had made it back to the house himself, where despite his concerns he was not ambushed. Neither Lichen nor Salt had been awake to be aware of his return, though. There had been no signs of a fight at the house, and no military or militia presence. _That doesn't mean there is not still a trap waiting for me, though, _he considered. Lichen and Salt believed that Adam Taurus was staying at their house alone. Technically, they were right to assume that. There certainly was only one soul that currently thought of this room as theirs. If they had betrayed him to the authorities, they likely would not suspect that Adam would return to the house so soon. His stealthy return merely prolonged his own uncertainty.

He picked up his scroll, turned it back on, and hoped to see a message in his inbox explaining the aura-shattering affair as a comedic mix-up and that all of his selves were doing well.

_Wait, how would I even go about messaging myself on this? I can only send messages to my contacts, but I am not in my own contacts list._ While noting his own lack of tech-savvy, he noticed that his scroll's background image was darker; it had changed from the standard FlamingOS logo to a picture.

There on his scroll was a selfie of Brazen in the woods. Alive. Dominic nodded with a bit of relief. Brazen was alright, then, if he had the ability to change their screen background; Brazen must be near enough to the city that he was able to connect to the city network. He walked into the bathroom, steamed the mirror with his breath and wrote his own name and Brazen's in the glass before taking a picture of it. He set it as his phone's new background.

"There, that is one way of messaging myself," he said. If Brazen was not the one who had been attacked, that meant that Bedlam was in danger somewhere. "Well, it was not like I had any other plans today. I cannot go breaking prisoners out of a prison they'd prefer to stay in, and my ship is still days from reaching port if it is on schedule. I guess I'll figure out what happened to Bedlam." He slipped out the window onto the rooftops into the crisp morning air.

He checked his aura. It was back to 100%. He paused to think about what that meant. His aura had broken twice in rapid succession last night, then had refused to regenerate until he slept. Now he awoke to it being full. Brazen was alive out in the woods. _So someone hurt Bedlam, but he was still alive afterwards so his aura regenerated since Brazen and I were not in combat, letting us heal our shared aura quickly. Whoever he was fighting broke his aura again, then kept constant pressure on his aura. Either Bedlam is dead now, or he is safe enough for his aura to heal._

Dominic spent the entire morning wandering the streets of Mistral. He started by heading to the house Blake was staying at, of course. Since anyone could have attacked an Adam, it might have been Blake or her friends. They were likely to prefer to capture Bedlam rather than outright kill him, fitting in with the series of aura shatters Dominic had experienced; hopefully they would be less attentive to a second stalker. _They would not still be on the lookout for me if they think they've already dealt with me!_

He purchased a set of binoculars, since Bedlam had kept the set they had shared, at a tacky tourist place that seemed to make itself profitable selling such items and related sight-seeing gear. Getting up onto the building that Bedlam had described as being an excellent vantage, Dominic found nothing amiss. There was no sign of a fight, and what he could spy of the huntresses made him think they all looked as healthy as he had expected them to. Maybe they had gotten the drop on Bedlam somehow? He dropped down from the rooftop. Blake and her human allies seemed to be going about the same activities as they had the other day, as described in agonizing detail by Bedlam. Ghira came by and seemed to be giving his daughter a farewell hug at one point, before leaving with his armed escort. It looked like he might be heading to the prison. Maybe Bedlam was there? He added it to the list of places to search.

Dominic wandered through the area, gradually broadening the scope of his search. The upscale neighbourhood made him an oddity with his mismatched disguise but most folks seemed to think he was a visiting huntsman. He even overheard one human couple walking a stroller containing their infant mention that they were happy to see that "a huntsman is back from Kuchinashi so soon".

As he walked along another street, considering giving up the meandering search and heading to the prison, he heard a familiar voice directed towards him: "Mister Big Tail!" The little faunus girl from the train emerged from a heap of refuse left outside a restaurant.

"What are you doing there, little friend?" Dominic asked, not actually knowing her name.

"The train got to the city but you never got off it. I asked the adults where you were but none of them knew. I asked them where I should go but none of them knew. I asked the train people where I should go and they told me I couldn't stay there. So I came out here," she replied cheerfully as she pulled a half-eaten pasta noodle from the trash. Judging by the stains on her dress, she had slept in a gutter.

"Okay, well, this is entirely awful and I'm putting a stop to it. If you don't have family or relatives in the city you can come with me. I'll make sure you're fed and tended to properly." Dominic's vision blurred a bit as his mind processed the injustice visited upon the kid, as his fury overwhelmed him, but he tried to keep his voice soothing and calm for her sake.

"That sounds nice! Momma was supposed to be with me, but she wasn't let on the train," the girl replied, "my name's Rothy!"

_At least her parents had a sense of humour when they named her, if not much common sense in sending their child alone to the city_, he thought angrily. _Of course, they hadn't expected to be separated and there was limited time..._ Dominic forgave Rothy's parents.

"Call me Dominic. Let's go buy some food, talk about you a bit, and get you to the place where I'm staying. It's the most faunus-friendly place in town and there is another girl there your age."

Dom led her into the restaurant, where she got a salad, more of the pasta she had been eating out of the garbage outside, and a few queer glances from the staff that Dom returned with a one-eyed glare. "It's a lot tastier when it is like this!" Hearing that, Dominic wondered if it would be too much trouble to hunt down the train staff that had put the girl out onto the street for some quick justice before his ship came in.

_I could just dump the bodies in a sewer or something_.

What else was he going to do? Sleep? It took him until the end of the meal to remember why he had even come to this district, because he tried not to think about how he had no idea how long he had slept for that morning. When that effort failed and his mind fell back to thinking of how he had been the one to sleep in the bed, he remembered why he had come out this way. He had been looking for Bedlam. He had no proof that his brother was dead, so until he had that he would remain optimistic. Adam Taurus was a survivor! Until he had a solid lead on his brother, he would help the faunus in need in front of him.

"Say, Rothy, you remember the others that were sitting behind us on the train? Do you remember the one who wore the blindfold? Have you seen him around here lately? I think he came up here yesterday, but he didn't come back to the house and I'm a bit worried about him."

Rothy finished drinking her glass of Dr Piper and shook her head from side to side while she swallowed. He finished off his stir-fried vegetable and rice with hot sauce, feeling oddly happy with the meal. It had been nice to eat in an upscale restaurant like this for once in his life, without having to have a weapon aimed at someone the entire time. _When humanity falls, this shall be the norm for faunus as important as I_.

"That's fine, I'll look for him some more tomorrow. Right now we had better start heading to that house before it gets too dark. Some parts of this city can be dangerous when the sun goes down." The human waitress came by and Dominic gave her lien for the meals. He stood up and readied himself to leave.

"Thanks for the meal, Mister Dominic!" Rothy got up and followed him out of the restaurant.

As the pair of them walked back to Lichen's, he noted that all of the digital wanted posters and bulletins still listed him as an active threat. Maybe going to the prison would have been a dead-end search, too. _If Blake and her friends didn't catch Bedlam, and the authorities did not get ahold of him, then where did I end up?_ He looked off the side of the mountain city. _Maybe Bedlam fell off? Is that a thing that happens? I'm pretty sure I could survive falling off this ledge... I'm not some sort of idiot who has no landing strategy for when I jump out of a bullhead beyond "scream like a girl". It wouldn't explain the second shatter, either._

J

For her part, Rothy kept up a constant stream of chatter while they walked about the variety of tricks she could perform with a yo-yo, skipping rope, and how she had seen a card magician find her friend's three of clubs after shuffling the deck, without the magician knowing which card the friend had picked, at a birthday party in Kuchinashi.

"I'm sure I could learn to do it, too, if I had a deck of cards!" Rothy finished, smiling proudly.

Dominic sighed, "okay, yes, that's all very impressive. I never learned any tricks like that when I was a kid." Rothy held onto his hand, peering at the dark narrow streets with round saucer-eyes.

"What did you do before you became a pimper? Did you go to school or play with other boys and have birthday parties?"

Dominic sputtered and came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the street, "became a what?"

"A pimper," Rothy replied, "I heard about people like you from my friends but you seem a lot nicer than they said you would be."

Dominic had no words.

"Maureen said that the city was full of pimpers who took care of lost girls with nowhere else to go, but that they were mean and made the girls do all sorts of tricks even when they didn't want to do the tricks."

No words at all.

"Maureen comes to the city all the time, she is four years older than me and says that she knows lots and lots! Her daddy has a big company that makes wooden furniture," Rothy continued, her eyes still looking around at the dark alleys and shady businesses of the faunus neighbourhood. "She said her mother told her that little girls alone in the city would get found by pimpers and would not be happy so that is why she always had to stay real close to her mother when they visited the city, but you've been really nice to me so far Mister Dominic so maybe she doesn't know as much as she thought she did and maybe she cheated at hopscotch and called me a liar when I told everyone she did but she was the liar all along!"

Dominic began slowly moving forward again, leading her along as she continued to hold onto his hand. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Adam Taurus had trained for years to defend himself against the enemies of his people, to be a shadow in the night who could break into any SDC complexes and slave camps to liberate the faunus or destroy the profits of the humans oppression. He had travelled the world, but this little girl had effortlessly disarmed him.

"Rothy, I am not a pimp. Your friend misunderstood what that term means." _Truth. Just be honest and upfront with her about it and charge through the awkwardness_, he thought. "Pimps are bad humans who mistreat other people. I'm not going to make you do tricks, which is a term that refers to something much more unsavoury than card tricks in this context. You are going to be safe and happy, and once Kuchinashi is safe and happy we can make sure you get back to your mother."

Rothy seemed confused and looked him in the eye, "I knew Maureen was a liar! I don't like this place, though. It's scary. Are you sure we're not lost?" The narrow streets of the faunus district were markedly different from the sunny boulevards of the upper levels of the city, and even Kuchinashi was more spacious and brightly lit.

"I never get lost. This is the way. The place might be scary, but none of the locals here would be mean to you Rothy. Not if they see your nice hooves."

"All the girls in school made fun of me for having them, though."

"Well, in this neighbourhood we all have feet or horns or tails that the human kids at school hurt us for." Dominic knelt down beside her, "do you know why they made fun of you for your hooves, Rothy?"

She shook her head, "because they don't like me?"

"No, it is because they're afraid of you. Because you are different from them. Because you are **better** than they are." Dominic pointed at a nearby alley, "how many trashcans do you see in that alley, Rothy?"

She craned her neck to count them; "five?"

"The human girls in your class wouldn't have been able to see a single one." Dominic stood up, "now let's hurry up and get to the house. It smells like it is going to start raining but we are pretty close."

It didn't take them long at all to arrive at Lichen's house. Dominic approached with his new ward in tow, rapped the door with his knuckles four times before twisting the knob and entered. "Lichen, I'm back."

"We're in the living room, Adam. Watching the news. " Lichen's tone was even. Not surprised to hear him. The sounds of the television ended, though the lights still flickered; Lichen had put it on mute so that they could talk, he presumed. He brought Rothy towards the living room.

"I've got another favour to ask, Lichen." the snowfox faunus turned her head from the screen to regard Dominic, then refocused her eyes on Rothy.

"Who is this? And did you dye your hair?" His hosts lounged in the living room, unconcerned by his entrance. Dom relaxed muscles that he suddenly realized were taut with apprehension.

"Hello Mrs Lichen, my name is Rothy. Mister Dominic rode on the train with me and found me when I was lost in the city." Rothy executed a polite curtsy.

"The train? Dominic? Adam, who is this girl?"

"I need you to keep her here, too, for a bit."

"Dominic?" Salt asked from the couch where she lay sprawled out with a quilt over herself, "why's she calling you that?"

"Because it is not particularly easy to introduce myself to folks as Adam Taurus at the moment, Salt."

Rothy finally released her grip on his hand. Lichen unmuted the television's news program. Dominic suddenly paid attention to it and realized that Ghira Belladonna was on the screen.

"...a new era of peace between humans and faunus is within our grasp. This generation can see a fresh start for our peoples, fighting together rather than against each other, fighting against hatred, against fear, against the ruin of our societies. We came here in the spirit of beneficence, without desire for recompense for our efforts. All that stands between us and this bright future is the insidious message of division spread by men like Adam Taurus and the others responsible for the attacks on Beacon and Haven Academies. You all know that I have long been involved with the White Fang in varying capacities, creating relationships between myself and many members that human societies have deemed terrorists, criminals, and renegades for their actions. Because of my own personal past relationship with Taurus, it is necessary for me to publicly say that I denounce, repudiate, and condemn him and his actions, as well as those who follow or assist him in his evil endeavours. The people of Menagerie and faunus everywhere stand united against Adam Taurus and his message of vicious hatred."

The screen changed to a male and female human newscaster team, who began discussing Ghira's speech, "Ghira Belladonna gave that speech the morning after his militia and the Mistral police force managed to prevent a group of terrorists, including the White Fang led by Adam Taurus..."

The screen changed to a picture of Adam, with the words "Armed and Highly Dangerous" and "Reward for Information Leading to Capture" boldly written underneath for ten seconds while the newscasters continued to speak.

"...whom Menagerie has remained adamant must be captured to answer for his crimes against both states."

The female newscaster nodded, then turned to the camera, "since coming to Mistral with his volunteer militia, Chieftain Belladonna has been extraordinarily helpful and cooperative with the Mistral authorities. We take you now to the military's current broadcast, where the Prince has just given the floor to the Chieftain."

"It may come as a surprise to many here that Mistral was host for many years to the heart of the White Fang organization. The High Leader, Sienna Khan, excavated an ancient series of tunnels and converted it into a base of operations and central nerve centre for the Fang after I stepped down from that position. Due to prisoner testimony gained from the cooperation of those faunus who were misled and coerced by Adam Taurus into following him into his attempted attack on Haven, we were able to learn of the location of this base and ensure that it no longer poses a threat, physical or ideological, to the safety of the people of Mistral or Menagerie." Dominic noted how Ghira was trying to spin public perception to dampen outrage against his captured soldiers. _They'll be doing community service in Menagerie for sure and the nooses in Mistral will stay unused..._

A stubby man in an ornate dress-uniform, evidently the Crown Prince of Mistral and acting military commander of its armed forces, stepped back onto the podium, "this victory, and the successful defence of Kuchinashi against a swell of grimm not seen since the fall of Beacon, heralds a time of friendship between our states." The Prince turned to Ghira, and the two men shook hands while smiling at the cameras. The camera panned back, revealing several other faunus and humans standing to the side of the leaders, Ilia among them.

Lichen muted the television as it went to commercial break, because nobody was as interested in a flashy neon advertisement for TorchQuik Energy Drink Xtreme (now in Red flavour!)

"Yeah, so, like I said, not particularly easy to use _that _name at the moment."

"Where did you get that child, Adam?" Lichen demanded.

Dominic was a bit upset at her tone and at what she was insinuating, or perhaps he was still a bit flustered by the pimp discussion from earlier. "I didn't kidnap her, Lichen. She's from Kuchinashi and came here on a train to get away from a grimm attack. The human just mentioned it on the news. Her parents were not able to get on the train so the humans shoved her out onto the streets to fend for herself. I think that's the sort of injustice the news should be covering."

"You did try to destroy the school at the top of the city this week, Adam."

Dom held his hands out with the palms facing upwards and pantomimed weighing the two stories against one another, settling on finding them equally important. Salt rolled her eyes, but continued to stay silent.

Rothy was slowly moving around Lichen's armchair, putting it and the older woman between herself and Dominic. Dominic sighed and removed his hat, then his coat. He sat down on the unoccupied couch across the room from Salt's, unstrapped Wilt and Blush from his back and reclined against the seat. Rothy's eyes shot up to stare at his horns, then to his unstrapped 'big tail'.

"Can you take care of her for a few days or not, Lichen? She's got nowhere else to go."

Lichen glanced at Rothy, then quickly back at Dom, "I'll care for the foundling, Taurus. The question is, how long are you going to be here?"

He tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling, "I don't know, Lichen. Until after Ghira leaves and I can get away safely."

"Get away to where?"

"You're safer not knowing that, Lichen," he chided.

"Don't you threaten her!" shouted Salt, which made Rothy cower behind Lichen's armchair.

"I'm not the one threatening her! This society is the one threatening her, just like it's always been! I'm just the one who realized I could fight back against it all!"

Between the shouting, Rothy could be heard starting to cry.

Lowering his volume Dominic crooned, "don't worry, Rothy. Don't cry. You'll be alright. Everything is going to be alright. Lichen and Salt will take care of you until your mother can come for you."

"Salt, why don't you get a bath going for Rothy. Take her up and show her where it is."

The two younger girls left the room, their footsteps and the creaking stairs evidence of their obedient withdrawal at Lichen's behest.

"Public opinion has turned against you, Adam. Ghira is the _only_ one not calling for your head on a pike. Have you considered turning yourself in? If you do it right, Ghira can get you better terms than anything you get after he's back in Menagerie. You know I don't want to see you die. The path you're on... will it really do anything to fix what they did to you in Solitas?"

They sat in silence, which was eventually ended by the sound of the house's plumbing roaring to life to fill the bathtub. Lichen turned the television back on, where the newscasters were discussing the attack on Kuchinashi.

Casualties, a large amount of property damage, but the town would survive. Ilhari hamlet had also been attacked, but the creatures of grimm had ended that attack prematurely to go to Kuchinashi. Officials and scientists were baffled by the strange behaviour being demonstrated by the grimm attacks. The program then changed to coverage of local plays and sporting events, where comments focused on how allowing faunus in with the regular population would effect overall attendance and the theatres' choice of performance materials.

Several productions dramatizing the Faunus Rights Revolution were being cancelled.

"I'm pretty handy with a map, Adam. Dominic. Whatever you want to be called. I'd say that the grimm seemed to be moving from the wilderness towards Mistral city... starting oddly close to the White Fang headquarters and following the train line, which Rothy says you rode with her." Dominic stared with his one eye at his host, his eyebrows forming an angry V, "you come in smelling like you crawled in through the sewer... but it makes me wonder what you were doing before you entered the city through the sewers. I had thought you merely were hiding in the sewers, but that's where Ghira's militia would have looked for you when you ran from Haven. You left town. You went to your fancy throne room. Then you came back to the city, where you came to my front door saying you had nowhere else to go."

He opened his mouth to protest.

"Don't say you had options; we both know I was always the bottom of your list of preferred placed to lie low."

He closed his mouth and went back to scowling silently.

"You're trouble, Adam. You've always been trouble. I just always hoped you were the good kind, the kind that would shake things up just enough to make some good happen. I don't want to be mixed up in this. I don't want Salt to get mixed up in this. I don't know her, but I don't want that little girl you just dragged in off the street mixed up in this. The city wants you dead, Adam. I want you alive. So that means I want you out."

Someone pounded on the front door, a series of four quick knocks that was followed by the knob being turned.

"Lichen, I'm back." Adam's voice called from the front hallway.

"Ah, bum clouds," Dominic cursed as he heard his footsteps echo down the hallway towards the living room.

His host's mouth gaped wide open and her eyes were stuck in a state of utter bewilderment.

"Alright, so you're kicking me out, but he can stay, right?" Dominic asked. _Hey, I have to try for comedy when I can in a life like this._

Brazen entered the room, realized what he had walked into with a glance and put his face in the hand that wasn't currently holding his Wilt.

"Ah, bum clouds," Brazen cursed before signing, [you didn't have the light on or anything in the room! We had a system!]

[Yes. I admit it and take blame on this. It is good to see you are not dead.]

Brazen nodded. [You knew I was fine.] He took out his scroll and pointed at the screen.

[This place is safe, for the moment. Did you have any luck with your search?] Dominic signed. Brazen put his sword away, but continued to stand in the arched egress in order to prevent Lichen from leaving the room if she chose to try.

"What in the name of the Brothers is going on? Why are there two of you?" Lichen's eyes darted back and forth between the pair a dozen times rapidly before they rolled up and she passed out in her chair. She had fainted. _What a completely Mistralian thing to have done_, he thought.

"Short answer 'yes' with an 'if', long answer 'no' with a 'but'. I met with Hazel; apparently he wants to stick around a while longer to get more information on what Blake's team's direction is. Hazel is back in the city, we came back together but parted ways before entering the city. Mercury wasn't against the longer downtime period, since that just means longer until their reckoning at their base with you-know-who. Emerald is still pretty out of it. Don't even ask me about the pilot right now, that is a total mind twister. How was your past couple of days?"

"Yesterday hung out around the prison to see what I could do there; Ghira is probably going to get them all out and sent to Menagerie so I decided against intervention there. Spent most of today looking for clues about Bedlam's whereabouts, found the faunus girl I sat with on the train eating out of a garbage can instead. Brought her here, where Lichen and I watched some scathing news programs. I think we may have overstayed our welcome here." Dominic whispered.

"Yeah, that might be a problem since she's seen us."

[Don't worry, we can fix this. Just give me a little time to figure out the finer details of how.]

[Do you think he's okay? Do you think he's alive?] Brazen queried, clearly referring to their missing sibling.

[Yes]

[How long did you sleep this morning?]

[Yes] Dominic returned. He sat motionless for a few moments, awkwardly, before reflecting the question, [how long did you sleep this morning?]

[Unknown. I woke up before giant] Brazen gave Dom a worried look before he slapped his own face, "there is still one way we can know if he is alive or dead! Take my hand!"

Dom took his hand. Nothing happened.

"Take off the gloves!" They removed their gloves and took their right hands in each other's grasp again. Each looked at their left hand.

"Dai, make the ring appear on my hand." Brazen said. If what Dai said was true, they could make the ring manifest when all the active parts of their soul were touching.

Nothing happened.

Brazen smiled then put on a resolved face and nodded. "We'll find him. We'll fix this. For now, I'm going to make sure Salt doesn't see me."

"Watch out for the two of them, they're in the bathroom cleaning the streets off of Rothy."

Brazen gave him the thumbs up and exited through the front door as quietly as he was able to manage.

J

Next bit rated M for torture; feel free to skip to the underlined plot summary afterwards that avoids the grisly details

Jackie 

J

Bedlam opened his eyes, but neither one of them saw anything but darkness.

_Where am I?_

His mind panicked, momentarily forgetting himself and recalling the darkness he experienced in his youth. Calming down as he became fully conscious, he tried moving his arms to remove the covering from his head but quickly found that he could not. Stretched over his head, his arms were secured in place, as were his legs, to keep him lying horizontally on the hard surface in a spread-eagle position. Without the freedom to use his arms he settled for using his face to explore the material of the bag over his face.

_Where am I?_ he thought again, trying to remember how he had gotten into this situation. _I remember leaving the safehouse, then going to my spot to spy on Blake again._ Since he did not remember much other than that, with his mind drawing a fuzzy blank when he tried to recall more, his assumption was that his circumstances were hostile.

The hard surface beneath him was cold where his body wasn't pressed against it and resonated when he tapped it with his arm, so probably a metal table. They had left his clothes on, though his weapon, gloves and shoes had been removed.

"SUBJECT IS AWAKE," a mechanical voice sounded; its source was uncertain. Bedlam guessed that the room he was in was covered in sound-dampeners because he couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from but he suspected the voice emitted from multiple speakers. He groaned as he finished his sudden awakening. "SUBJECT IS AWAKE. ADAM TAURUS: RANKING MEMBER OF WHITE FANG CONVICTED IN ABSENTIA FOR MULTIPLE CHARGES OF TERRORISM, MURDER, ASSAULT, GRAND LARCENY, TREASON, SMUGGLING, AND ARSON."

"You mean I got off on the jaywalking charge? That's a relief," Bedlam sniped as his mind gained clarity. "Where am I?"

"SUBJECT IDENTITY CONFIRMED. ADAM TAURUS, YOU HAVE BEEN TAKEN INTO MISTRAL MILITARY POLICE CUSTODY. WE ARE PREPARED TO POSTPONE SENTENCING FOR YOUR CRIMES UNTIL LEGAL COUNSEL CAN BE PROVIDED FOR YOU IF YOU INFORM US OF THE LOCATION OF CINDER FALL."

_Ah, excellent, the human legal system_, Bedlam thought while he digested what they had told him. His understanding was that Mistral had few, if any, active huntsmen in the city proper after the Fall of Beacon: the necessity of struggling to protect their vast frontier and all of that. Bedlam gave himself some credit and doubted that a regular patrol of human patrol officers could have seen him and taken him down quickly enough that he had not had time to react or remember.

He took a deep breath.

The bag over his head was a heavy, but breathable, fabric. Much thicker than his sheer blindfold, so that it obscured all light. The air in the room smelled damp, which indicated to him that either the building had suffered from a plumbing issue for the past month or they were at the base of the city. He had doubts that the Mistral military police had captured him on the mid-levels of the city, then brought him all the way down to the less savoury lower districts. There was also an underlying floral scent that he immediately placed as a perfume. The perfume triggered a memory: he had been on the rooftop of the boutique, watching Blake, when he had noticed the same smell. His mind associated it with danger and alarm, a sense of surprise. Someone had managed to get the drop on him, though the how of it still eluded him. He had definitely been taken on the mid-level district of the city where Blake and her friends enjoyed the panoramic view of the surrounding countryside.

"Who are you?" he shouted through the bag.

"WILL YOU COMPLY?"

Why would they be focused on Cinder? Certainly the wanted posters for himself and Cinder had been plastered all over the avenues of Mistral, but their faces were not alone. Why not ask for the location of any of the others? Was it possible that the police had managed to subdue and capture Hazel and the kids, or at the least track down their locations? Maybe they had followed Hazel out of the city as he left to return to the airship where the kids had been unceremoniously dumped while he attended to his mysterious business back in the city.

If they had captured the others then Brazen would probably be coming up with a plan to spring him, just so that he could reunite with Hazel. If that was the case, he just had to make his captors want to hang on to him long enough for that to happen. If they were trying to deceive him by disregarding the others, he would not lose too much from resisting and could at least make the humans work for it. A third option, that they just didn't care about the other three, implied that they were not who they said they were. Attempting to deceive him about the identity of his captor would fit in with taking him to the undercity instead of to a military police base closer to where he was taken.

"I'm thinking I'll hold off for better terms than 'we will give you due legal process if you do our jobs for us' before I tell you anything about Cinder's hide-out," Bedlam said slowly. Hopefully the mention of a hide-out would be enough bait to hook them onto seeing him as a possible asset rather than a discardable animal.

"YOUR CRIMES WOULD WARRANT THE DEATH PENALTY. COOPERATION COULD LESSEN YOUR SENTENCE. TELL US THE LOCATION OF CINDER FALL'S HIDEOUT IMMEDIATELY."

_If the authorities had actually gotten me, I doubt a human judge would find any sentence beneath the death sentence suitable for what I've managed to do against their corrupt society_, he thought grimly. He used his hands to try to feel what was keeping him secured to the metal table. Steel wire ropes secured to cuffs around his wrists, each leading to a different corner of the table. "Sure you wouldn't rather have information on Hazel?"

"HAZEL IS OF NO CONCERN. WILL YOU COMPLY?"

Bedlam was silent. Time passed, but with his impaired senses it was difficult to say how long it was before his captor's patience wore thin. He heard a door creak open, heeled shoes walking lightly across a concrete floor. The smell of perfume he had noted earlier became stronger. Whoever had secured him to the table was back in the room with him, implying that they might also be trying to deceive him about their plurality: why would the same person who captured him also be questioning him? Why would they be using a robot-voice? _I grew up fighting Atlesian droids, machines do not scare me_. If whoever had caught him was operating independently, it would all make sense. _It's what I would do if I was working alone to get information out of a prisoner_. _Classic deception tactics._ He began to try to discipline his thoughts, in case the perfumed-captor had some sort of mind-affecting semblance. The threat of such a person was quite real in many areas: such talents generally either ended up working for the police or for themselves as petty criminals. Mind-reading, not a useful semblance for fighting the creatures of grimm, generally meant such people would be left in more urbane environments even while Mistral's frontier was suffering a devastating shortage of trained huntsmen.

On the other hand, from what he had heard around town nobody had learned of the fall of the White Fang HQ, the location of which was something that Bedlam felt a mind-reader could have wrung out from his captured fighters before hiselves had made it back into the city.

Something thin and sharp was drawn across the front of his chest overtop the cloth of his stolen hoodie, slowly. Tantalizingly. After it completed its pass, it was swiftly drawn back, creating a strange 'swoosh' sound. He heard his captor readying to strike down upon him with it, so he concentrated on protecting himself with his aura. The metal instrument came down to hit him flatly in the abdomen. The blow was softened by his aura: he certainly felt it, but it could not be said to have damaged him.

He heard a hiss of frustration before the instrument was drawn back again, heralding a flurry of blows against him until finally, after several minutes, his aura shattered. Bedlam was actually impressed with his aura for holding up for so long.

The unseen assailant moved away from him and moved back out of the room, closing the door.

"COMPLY."

Bedlam determined to remain stoic, saying nothing and thinking of what the weapon being used against him could be.

His captor re-approached him. The weapon came down again, this time striking through the hoodie into his scarred flesh. Bedlam made no sound, anticipating the strike due to the audible 'swoosh', gritting his molar teeth as it struck. His captor moved away from him once more, exiting the room. A_t this rate, I am going to need a new disguise on top of everything else_. He felt a cool wetness on his abdomen, implying that the blow had sliced him to some degree. A disguise covered in bloodstains was not much of a disguise.

"COMPLY."

Bedlam remained silent. His captor came back and began striking him with increasing force. Unable to see what damage was being inflicted, it nonetheless felt like he was being given some nasty bruises and more shallow cuts._ I've had worse from the SDC_, he thought, _but this is not helping me with my goal of dealing with Blake._

_Blake._

__Was it possible that it was Blake who had captured me?__ He doubted Blake would have any qualms about his current treatment; honestly, he didn't really mind it either. This sort of treatment was an occupational hazard for his line of work, a necessary sacrifice to ensure the freedom of his people in the future. He was a fighter and he had always understood that during a fight someone inevitably gets hurt. Maybe Blake had finally figured that lesson out?

The weapon came down again after a few minutes of steady assault, only this time to be deflected by his aura. His tormentor's device was dropped from their hand, having met the resistance unexpectedly, hitting the ground with a clang and a crumple. _That's odd, my aura does not normally regenerate that quickly_, he thought. _What sort of thing am I being hit with that is wrapped in something soft and hard-tippedl?_ He had heard of some captured Fang prisoners being whipped in Mistral with bamboo shoots, which would certainly be hard and leafy.

The item was retrieved, then the captor left the room for an indeterminable amount of time. When they returned, they immediately began striking him with the rod again until his aura shattered once more. After it shattered, something warm was placed around his ankle and fastened tightly.

_Zzzap!_

Bedlam shouted out in surprise as electricity shot through him, arcing up his body from the new accessory on his ankle. The maybe-bamboo-but-maybe-not length came down on his torso again, ripping through his tattered disguise and sinking into his flesh. Again and again, without any real rhythm or pattern of where it would hit.

_Zzzap!_

His leg spasmed as another jolt of electricity was released. It was not enough to harm him, he realized, but the tingle of constant voltage would prevent his aura from regenerating. The painful periodic discharges seemed to just be a way to make the treatment crueller. Another dozen strikes from the mystery device and his captor once more left his side.

"COMPLY."

He heard his captor return to strike him.

"Make me," Bedlam sneered underneath his bag. He heard the feet stomp repeatedly on the ground, as if they were having a tantrum but did not want to give it away by screaming. _I'm getting used to the sounds in here now, I think. Captor is f__emale, if the heels and perfume are any indication (but maybe they aren't since Mistralian human males are notable for their love of theatre and feminine fashions), probably short based on the strike angle unless they have my table raised high over them. Slim from the sound against the concrete they make when they walk, either they are stealthy or they do not weigh much. They're probably using the bag to make me think that they are bigger and more intimidating than they actually are. If it is Blake, maybe she is using perfume to disguise her scent_. His captor approached him again and there was the sound of a dial being turned.

_ZZZzzap!_ He roared from the pain, biting down on his tongue as a larger surge of electricity surged up his nerves; a faint smell of seared hair visited his nose for a moment before dissipating. Now he knew that the ankle bracelet had higher settings. Her cruel stick came down to hit him again, now on the thighs and arms, taking quick shots randomly at all parts of his body instead of focusing on his chest as had been done prior. The shocks, coming at regular intervals, became his way of keeping track of the passage of time.

...ten, eleven, twelve, _ZZZzzap_! One, two three...

More time passed, Bedlam enduring the violent attentions until he heard their laboured panting from having been steadily beating him, while he suffered regular electric shocks, for over an hour. Bedlam was somewhat impressed at their endurance: they are a capable combatant, probably a huntsman or as good-as. _That would explain how they managed to take me by surprise while I was stalking Blake_. They had not left his side to repeat their demands, the speaker controls seemingly being kept outside of the room, focusing entirely on trying to break his resistance.

If not for their breathing, Bedlam could have been misled into believing that one of Atlas' soulless tin-cans had been given the task of breaking his will. Sucking air in raggedly for breath from the effort of hitting him repeatedly for so long, the mystery captor turned the dial on the ankle shocker and moved away. They left the room and closed the door.

...ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen? He sighed with relief that the shocker was turned off for now; the smell of himself having been slowly fried was not nearly as disgusting as the shocks were jarring, but that was all he had to deal with now that the bracelet had been deactivated.

"TELL US WHERE CINDER FALL'S HIDEOUT IS." The mechanical voice must be a text-to-speech application, since it failed to express their fatigue. Or perhaps there was someone else watching these proceedings after all.

Bedlam wondered how long it would be before one of his siblings came to find him.

"YOU WILL TELL US WHAT WE WANT TO KNOW. IT IS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME."

Bedlam sighed. _I need to find a way out of this on my own_. Knowing his siblings they were probably too immersed in their own agendas or one another to even notice he was missing, unless Hazel and the children had also actually been taken into custody. It nearly made him wish that he had quartered himself, rather than being fifty percent original. Not that he had any particularly meaningful choice to make in his goal like his original copy had had.

_It's fine that they have each other_, he reassured himself, _when I am reunited with Blake, they will not resent my monopolization of her affections_. He didn't need a twin; he would have his darling Blake back to his side and all would be well. He imagined the future he and himselves would build, wherein he and Blake would be free to live without fear, focusing on his ambitions rather than his siblings since there was still the possibility of a telepathic Blake-focused fantasy distracted him from his current predicament for a while, making him lose track of time. _Oh Blake, what torture could this huntress devise that could ever hurt me more than your desertion? What chance of stealing my hope away when you've already stolen it?_

The footsteps came back into the room and he heard hands pulling levers and begin pumping a foot pedal. The table began to shift, inclining backwards and making Bedlam slide towards his hands. His movement arrested when the bindings on his legs became taut. Inversely suspended, the bag over his head hanging from under his chin as his perception of gravity was reversed, he felt his blood begin to pool in his skull. The footsteps left the room.

"WE SHALL SEE HOW LONG YOU CAN WITHSTAND THIS."

Bedlam focused his meagre aura, no longer being interfered with by the electric current, on protecting his lungs from the pressure exerted on them by his other organs, ill-designed to be upside-down. He focused on his breathing and craned his neck up as much as he could to relieve the pressure in his head.

He almost missed the regular electric shocks; they had been a nice way to keep track of the passage of time. He knew that a long period of time passed while he remained inverted. Perhaps his captor had gone to the bathroom. Bedlam imagined them sitting on a toilet, reading a newspaper, having forgotten him completely. He took the opportunity to test his bindings again.

They were solid, more than he was capable of sundering even with his aura-enhanced strength. He would need to find some more complex way of breaking them, or wait until his warden decided to relocate him to a new method of captivity that might offer a different suite of escape options.

"Why is Cinder the only one you are interested in? Not a fan of Mercury or Emerald?"

There was no response_. __They might actually have gone to the bathroom__,_ he thought indignantly. It was one thing to be prying him for information solo, but to just take off in the middle of a round of torture? Amateur. Insulting. Did she not realize who she was dealing with? It perfectly illustrated the way the profession was stagnating, slowly decaying. Torture was losing all of its prestige thanks to hacks like this.

At least he knew with certainty that it was not one of his siblings doing this to him as an elaborate prank. If they had, he might have actually started to crack by now.

J

The table was reoriented to bring him level to the ground again, letting the blood rush back down from his head. He felt dizzy, but his restored aura had allowed him to power through the neglect. A cloth came up to his face, it was wet and smelled overwhelmingly of chemicals even through the hood. The odour that seeped into his hood brought another chunk of memory from earlier back into clarity for him. His captor had appeared out of nowhere on the rooftop while he watched Blake sparring with the tall, older human who had accompanied Blake's teammates into the trap at Haven.

Before he had been able to react to the sudden appearance, she had gotten the cloth in front of his face, clinging to his back and locking her legs around his torso while she had waited long enough for the anaesthetic to knock him out. Then his mind had gone blank, like it was now.

J

When he woke up again, his first realization was that the bag had been removed from his head. His head was locked into some kind of restraint that forced him to look down the length of his scarred, bruised and bloody body, still spread-eagle on a stainless-steel surgical table. His next realization was that all of his clothes, outside of his undershorts, had been removed and thrown in a heap in the corner of the room beside the door.

A small trolley sat beside the end of the table, atop it lay a saw, a drill, some pliers, and various other sundry items that he considered to be rather uninspired torture implements. At least the Atlesians had taken a bit of pride in making an art out of their attempt, creatively using dust and personally tailored psychological manipulations. This entire scenario just reeked of amateurism. He could jury-rig a better setup out in the forest.

"TELL US WHERE CINDER FALL'S HIDEOUT IS."

"Sure, right after you let me go and make me a delicious cake, I'll do just that."

The door creaked open, and a large burly man with a clean-shaven face wearing the standard Mistral military police uniform entered the room holding a long thin blade. He came to a stop beside the trolley. __That doesn't seem like it is the weapon I was getting beaten with earlier,__he considere_d, ___seems too sharp along the edge and nothing that would make the distinctive swooshing sound that they seem to think increases my apprehension.__ The fact that there was a large figure entering the room did throw a few of his earlier theories out the window: the female captor from earlier must have gone off to get this fellow, or perhaps he had simply been watching the entire time.

"AS AN AFTER EFFECT OF THE DRUGS YOU WILL FIND YOUR LIMBS TO BE NUMB AND YOUR AURA DISABLED. YOU CAN STILL TALK AND WATCH." Now that it was mentioned, Bedlam did realize that he felt disconnected from his body below the neck despite being compelled to look at it sprawled along the steel table. If his captor had disappointed him with their attempt to break him physically, they at least had some rudimentary talents with drugging him.

Taking a cue from the end of the speakers ringing, the officer dutifully stuck the long blade deep into Bedlam's shin. Bedlam watched as blood quickly squirted out before calming down to a steady flow of his vital fluid that ran off the side of his leg and pooled on the table. It seemed that his aura was not functioning on that leg, certainly. The officer yanked the blade back out of the shin, wiping it clean with a cloth while the flow of blood increased without the weapon to plug it up.

"YOU HAVE KEPT YOUR BODY IN REMARKABLY FINE SHAPE. IT WOULD BE A SHAME FOR IT TO GO TO WASTE LIKE THIS. PERHAPS YOU SHOULD TALK BEFORE YOU HAVE TO WATCH ANY MORE?"

The officer used the bloodied cloth to cover the bleeding wound, retrieved a spray-bottle from the trolley and doused the injury with a foaming liquid. The sight made Bedlam a little queasy, but he remembered his training and mentally commanded himself to focus on making it through whatever they had planned. The room smelled of Bedlam's anxiety-driven sweat.

Bedlam told them nothing in response, narrowing his eyes as he looked at his new wound; then locked his gaze back on the face of his new roommate, who did not look at his prisoner while motionlessly examining the other tools available on the trolley. He finally decided on the pliers and, picking them up, latched onto Bedlam's pinky toe on the right foot with the vise-like grip. He looked up at where Bedlam's head was restrained and cocked his head to the side.

Bedlam rolled his eyes, a gesture which was more effective at conveying his thoughts on the issue than if he had a blindfold or bag over his head.

The pliers pressed against the toe and began twisting, twisting. The bone clearly fractured, then snapped with a gruesome sound that filled the room; he began pulling the remains until the disfigured toe hung limply from the foot like a sock full of red porridge. He put the pliers down and stood at attention.

"WILL FIND CINDER WITH OR WITHOUT YOU. ALL THAT YOU CAN DECIDE IS HOW MUCH OF YOU IS LEFT WHEN THAT HAPPENS."

"That looks really gross. I have to say, if I wasn't being forced to watch what you were doing down there I would not watch. That foot is never going to be used for walking ever again. I mean, wow, it looks like a sack of peas." Bedlam closed his mouth and directed his thoughts inward, physically inward, to keep his latest meal (whenever that had been) from being regurgitated at the sight of what the officer was doing. __Who knows when they plan to feed me, if they plan to feed me at all...__

"COMPLY."

Bedlam tried to shake his head, no, because he did not want to risk opening his mouth for a while. The effort was futile, the restraint kept his head facing directly down at his damaged body, but the sudden frown on the officer's otherwise inexpressive face let him know that the message was received by his hosts.

Watching the officer methodically tear the toes off, one by one, quickly became the chart-topper on Bedlam's list of all-time didn't-really-need-to-see-that. After he ran short on toes to maim, he drew the hacksaw, put a tourniquet around Bedlam's ankle, and began sawing through the middle of the foot itself. After that was done, he covered the gore of the bisected foot with cloth and sprayed it with the disinfectant like earlier.

Bedlam lost track of time, the sights before him making seconds seem longer. After each new brutality, the speaker would demand that he comply, that he inform them of Cinder's whereabouts, that he salvage at least some of himself for his sham of a trial. __Like they expect me to believe that I'll get a trial!__

He crushed both of the kneecaps with a hammer, smiling as he then prodded the squishy mess with the hammer's hooked side. The kneecaps were now like a gelatin dessert, jiggling after being prodded. Jiggling like Blake's posterior as they had run through the trees in Forever Fall. __Great, now I'm going to have this memory to compare Blake's ass to in the future. Great. Just great. __Officer Eric Jann (a name that Bedlam had invented for the man since he did nothing except mechanically mangle every body part that Bedlam could see) raked the prongs up towards Bedlam's undershorts before relenting and standing at attention once more. He must have a line of sight to whoever is operating the audio... or whoever is operating the audio has a line of sight to him.

The fingers and thumbs went the same way as the toes, one by one turned into limp dangling nightmare-fuel. As each one was mutilated, the speakers remarked casually about how Wilt and Blush would be of little use to him in the future and demanding his cooperation.

As his last digit, the pinky on his right hand, was crushed, the message finally changed tone. "THERE MUST BE SOMETHING YOU WANT. WHAT WOULD FACILITATE THE DIVULGENCE OF CINDER'S HIDEOUT?"

__Ooooh, progress?__ "I just want to be released from here so that I can continue my task uninterrupted. I would give assurance that I have no intention of causing nuisance or harm to the Kingdom of Mistral ever again, either for past harms or this current farce."

"TASK?"

Seeing that the painless butchery had not given him reason to scream to indulge their ineffective sadism, he decided to at least indulge their curiosity, "I'm only out there to clean up a few loose ends. Faunus business. Nothing that the human police of any kingdom would deign important enough to be a concern for them."

"LOOSE ENDS?"

"A friend who betrayed me. I promised myself that I would not rest until I bring resolution to that conflict." _Hahaha, promised myself. Technically true!_ "What do you gain from tracking down Cinder?"

"CINDER IS A DANGEROUS CRIMINAL."

"Yeah, so am I, but only the Mistral police and public would care about that," Bedlam rasped, "neither of which I feel like you belong to. So, let me ask again, what've you got against Miss Fall?"

"YOU UNDERSTAND BETRAYAL. CINDER BETRAYED HUMANITY. SHE MUST BE BROUGHT TO JUSTICE."

_"_You're not going to sell me that you're police."

"CINDER MUST PAY FOR WHAT SHE DID AT VALE."

"I mean, if that's what you're after then you'll note that Emerald and Mercury are just as guilty for the fall of Beacon as her. Also, I'm pretty sure I might have been her main accessory to that. Without me, that whole attack would have been toothless." __Hahaha, White Fang joke___. _Where were his brothers when he finally got some good puns in?

"THE WHITE FANG WERE MERE BEASTS OF BURDEN; DID NOTHING COMPARED TO TORCHWICK. HER PLANS WOULD NOT HAVE SURVIVED INFANCY WITHOUT HIM. AND AFTER ALL HE DID TO HELP HER WITH HER PLAN, SHE GOT HIM KILLED. CINDER. MUST. PAY."

Officer Erik Jann (whose name should really be read in reverse order to truly pick up on Bedlam's sense of humour while under duress) picked up the blade from where it had been placed on the trolley and jammed it through Bedlam's other shin, holding it in place firmly.

"Ah, you're one of Torchwick's crew. That explains a lot," Bedlam said while a smile began to form on his face, "I always wondered how incompetent his goons were when the man himself was so pathetically weak to begin with."

He heard something smash against a floor, or perhaps a wall, on the other side of the wall with the door. A nigh-imperceptible guttural growl followed that, but his ears were keener than any human's.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I hit a nerve? At least one of us managed to today," he gave a quick, wry chuckle. "You can't even maintain concentration on your semblance anymore," he jeered. The policeman was rigid, unmoving. "I suppose you deserve some credit, because it did take me a little bit to puzzle it all out. You might be able to make me see and hear your little theatrics with the setup you put together, being dizzy from that prolonged suspension made me actually believe the sounds your speakers made were coming from my body, and the drug-induced paralysis made my sense of touch incapable of figuring out the ruse. But you can't fake the smell, can you? I can't smell the disinfectant spray. I can't smell this simulacrum that is having a great time with your fake tools. I can't smell my own fresh blood. Heck, you even forgot to make me bleed this last time when your brain started thinking more about your dead boss than what should happen when you stab someone through the leg."

The officer raised the blade out of the shin and plunged it through Bedlam's heart, or at least what had looked like it should be his heart. Instead of killing him, Bedlam's body shattered into pieces, like a window breaking after being hit with a shockwave, in front of his eye. The Mistral police officer broke, too, falling to the cement floor and disappearing. Once the illusion was gone, Bedlam saw his own body, sporting a generous number of new bruises, welts and slashes from the earlier umbrella beating he had been subjected to, tilted at a forty-five degree slope beneath where the illusion of his body would have earlier had him believe he had been laid out, his real body still shackled to the real table. A tube had been injected into his actual arm, which seemed to be dosing him with a constant intravenous supply of the numbing agent.

"Your attempt at the psychological torture was still impressive, and might have worked on a mere human. I'm not completely inexperienced in the field, though, and you're certainly not the first person I've met with an illusion semblance. Honestly, from a critical standpoint, Emerald's provide a lot more utility." And whoever is on the other side of that wall is not Emerald. The way Emerald looked at Cinder, that unadulterated reverence... Bedlam could not think of a reason why their defeat at Haven would undermine such devotion. If his captor was one of Torchwick's goons, they would undoubtedly be familiar with Emerald to some extent, which would make the jab all the more potent. "I bet she's a better thief than Torchwick ever was, too..."

A ridiculously small woman with half-brown half-pink hair that went past her shoulders accented with white streaks (which Bedlam doubted were from age) strode into the room wielding an umbrella, seething with rage. She pressed a button on the accessory and a long blade shot out from the lacy thing, turning it into a weapon. _Ah, so that is what she was using on me earlier_. For some reason it seemed familiar, but he could not place where he had seen it before. He suddenly wished he had had time to learn more about the humans Cinder had employed in Vale.

She removed the tube inserted into his arm, which continued to pump a green fluid onto the cement that smelled like citrus; she dabbed the mark on his arm with some alcohol before wrapping it in a bandage. Moving around him, she pulled some levers and winches behind him to rotate the table so that it was perpendicular with the ground, leaving Bedlam to helplessly hang from his tethered arms. She removed the leather restraints attached to his head that had forced him to watch her illusory theatrics, and he rolled his head in small circles to relieve the cramps in his neck that had come from forced stillness. She came back around to his front and brandished her extended weapon at his chest. In her other hand she held a scroll, which she typed into. The scroll was connected to the speakers, he surmised, for when she stopped typing the speakers began relaying her message to him.

"YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN AN ANIMAL. ANIMALS DO NOT FEEL PAIN, BUT THEY CAN BE TRAINED. I WILL TRAIN YOU TO SPEAK."

After a quick frown, she got on a stool at the side of his restraining table so that she could reach his face. She grabbed his nose and pinched it until he opened his mouth to breathe; taking advantage of his orifice she shoved a foul-tasting pill in him and mimed the act of swallowing it. He did, and feeling began to come back to his body over a few minutes. Devilishly, she began poking his extremities with the blunt edge of her umbrella-sword until she was satisfied that his sense of touch had been restored. Like a doctor testing reflexes, she hit his knee.

She placed a modified cattle-prod attached to a leather bracelet on his ankle, a now-familiar sensation made all the more foul for its clear association with his horns. She turned up the dial.

_Zzzap!_

She smiled wickedly and Bedlam suddenly remembered having seen that smile with her eyes before: on the train from Kuchinashi as he was heading to the caboose, though she had had blonde hair at that point. From what he had just witnessed of his captor, changing the colour of her hair would be a minor application of her semblance.

He did not even bother to try and raise his aura defensively as his skin began to crawl and tingle from the current. _No point in just putting up my aura to delay the inevitable _

She left the room with the numbing drug tube, which he noted was attached to a large canister sporting the TorchQuick Energy Drink logo, leaving Bedlam slightly enraged from her blatant racism: between calling him an animal and showcasing her use of a cattle-prod, he felt like she was trying to get back at him for the shots he had taken at Torchwich and comparing her unfavourably with Emerald.

The lights went out and the door closed, clicking locked.

...ten, eleven, twelve, _Zzzap!_ One, two three...

He calmed himself, taking deep breaths infused with her lingering perfume, his own sweat and the growing stench of his skin frying from the electricity.

"We'll see who's the animal, human," he spat. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

_Zzzap!_ One, two three... he imagined that he would not be getting his required couple hours of sleep before she returned. He began wiggling his arms and legs in the hope of weakening his restraints enough to escape or at least give him something to do.

It was fine.

His semblance dulled the pain.

J

Bedlam has been captured by Neopolitan, who is on the hunt for Cinder to exact revenge for the death of Roman Torchwick at the Battle of Beacon! Using deception, enhanced by her fabrication semblance, Neopolitan started to brutally torture Bedlam into revealing what he knows of Cinder's whereabouts. Bedlam is able to see through the trickery she employs by relying on his enhanced sense of smell, making it through the first session of torture without breaking. What a champ.

There, now you don't need to have read the last two scenes if torture ain't for your taste!

Jackie 


	10. Getting Nailed

Do I not like Bedlam? I don't think so. I told him it was nothing personal, and he was all "I...disagree." What does he know, though? He's secretly my favourite! Remember that if you make it through what I'm trying to pass off as a chapter. Yup. Favourite boy. Now if you would all excuse me, I am going to go see a squirrel, that I pretend is my psychiatrist, about the fact that I'm having conversations with fictional characters again.

She thinks I'm nuts! [holds for laughter]

* * *

**I think that, despite a few minor setbacks, things are going quite well.**

"Going quite well?" Adam seethed, gesturing wildly towards the images on the rings, "Bedlam's being torn apart, Dominic is on guard duty while he waits for a boat, and Brazen is wandering around a human city looking for a dead human girl."

**A few minor setbacks have come up, but otherwise progressing nicely.**

"Yeah, you just liked experiencing eating in that upscale restaurant!" Adam accused, moving back towards Dai and petulantly knocking over the small dining table she had conjured, sending the plates of food and the candles onto what constituted the ground in this strange place, "and speaking of Bedlam..."

**There was nothing amiss there, I have told you this. You would have been taken by surprise just as easily as he.**

"He was too focused on Blake to notice that someone had joined him on the roof after he came back from getting a late lunch!" Adam moved back to the floating rings.

**He is not focused on Blake any more than you would have been, he is simply no longer concerned with leading the faunus terrorists or ending the human oppression of your people. In his shoes, you would be on that table now. The gift of the relic has allowed you to be elsewhere while that happens, furthering your other goals through Brazen and Dominic.**

"Yeah, like it did them much good when their auras shattered without warning," Adam shook his head, "Brazen could have been killed if Mercury or Hazel, or that pilot thing-"

Dai gave an involuntary shudder; she had given a more pronounced version of the involuntary reaction when Brazen had shoved the dehydrated Seer into his cloak. Adam had filed that away for a later discussion: his hostess had some particular revulsion to those two beings. He suspected that it might be due to whatever semblance Cinder's strange boss, Salem, held over the creatures. Or maybe they were just repulsive.

"-had decided that they had more use for me dead than alive. Dominic wasn't so unfortunately positioned, but what if other human bounty hunters had tracked him down? Or if Sun had seen through his disguise and thought that taking me prisoner for Blake would be a fast-pass into her heart?"

**Oooh, that would be a romantic gesture. Why do not you do nice things like that for Blake?**

Adam glared at Dai.

"I was...am... literally trying to take over the world for her, Dai. The world. A peaceful world, just for us, where humans would never hurt us again."

Dai shrugged and held her arms out in an I-don't-see-how-that-is-better gesture, making her wings stretch out between her hands and legs.

**The sharing of your soul's aura between three bodies does have a few drawbacks, but on the other hand look at how much faster it is regenerating! Your aura reserves are also increasing faster, too, since your soul is experiencing so much more than it would otherwise have been.**

_Apparently, the strength of aura is connected to how much the person is 'alive': how strong their emotions are, how much they have seen, and the nature of their pursuits. _If Adam had ever played a role-playing game, which he hadn't because his life was a mess of strife and hardship, he might have made a reference to how having three bodies let him grind XP faster.

He sat back down in his latest chair - a wiry, spindly metal affair matching the fancy ones found in the upscale human restaurant - which had until his outburst sat by the dining table across from where Dai sat, the rings floating to his right to allow his good eye to watch what his psyche-slices were up to while Dai had tried to rub her claws against his feet under the table.

Dai had set it up after gleefully watching Dominic's meal with the doe-faunus Rothy; a character she had taken a liking to nearly as much as she had taken a dislike to Salt. The latter girl had earned Dai's ire when she had been given a "**free show**" without showing any gratitude. Adam's successful explanation of the age difference between himself and Salt, and the resultant social stigma of the scene, had backfired when Dai began calling him a pervert for exposing himself to Salt. At that point, he had had to argue that full-frontal nudity was not, in and of itself, objectionable. It was simply a social construct.

Dai had smiled at that, before removing her chasuble.

**So there is nothing inherently wrong with this, then**, she had smirked. Adam figured that she had just been waiting for a chance to strip. He had accepted it, stating that he was not bothered. Bedlam, as he put it, "did nothing wrong". If things had gone differently (see: how Dai wanted things to go), then even Adam's limited morality would have been strained by the unexpected encounter with Salt.

Dai's nudity did not fluster him as much as she would have liked it to. He had seen nude women before, but had long ago devoted himself to Blake. _I suppose that part of me lives strongest in Bedlam, now._

As for Lichen, Dai feelings were yet undecided. Having seen how Bedlam was pinned and drugged on the rooftop, neither she nor Adam had shared Dominic's suspicions against the owner of the safehouse. Dai had been wary of Lichen from the outset, or maybe just upset that the trio had chosen to enter the city through the stench of the sewers; Adam had had to explain to her how he and Ghira had rescued the pregnant faunus from human slavers, with Ghira delivering Salt himself in the wilderness. Dai was concerned that Lichen would feel some loyalty towards Ghira. Adam was convinced that Lichen was still in between the two revolutionaries. "As long as I don't endanger her or Salt, she'll keep us safe."

Of course, that sense of safety was shared by the trio to the extent that they actually all slept at the same time. They did not keep watch, either because of their exhaustion or their selfishness in not wanting to have to stay awake longer than the others.

Which led to yet another discovery for Adam: he could not dive into their rings when they were asleep.

For that matter, he had no idea where Bedlam actually was, since his ring had gone dark after being knocked out. So he was left literally in the dark as to wherever this criminal woman had dragged his Blake-focused self.

Dai presently waved her hand, restoring her romantically candle-lit table and food to its place in front of her so that her fork, held empty in the air by her other hand, could continue enjoying a green version of the stir-fry Dominic had ordered. She had shrunk herself a bit, too, as if jealous of Rothy's entire experience. Adam had convinced her that if she wanted to have a nice dinner with him like Rothy had, it was appropriate to wear something fancy. She had taken that advice and now wore a more stylish gown, with long slits along the sides that afforded her wings freedom of movement.

**Next time you eat at a restaurant, I hope you get what Rothy was having.**

"Slim chance of that. Rothy had the chicken pasta and I'm not big on eating meat."

Dai raised an eyebrow. **Really? Why is that?**

"I was raised by the SDC, they didn't exactly break the budget feeding the working-waifs. When I did break out of my chains I tried ham and chicken but neither one sat well. I'm not sure if it is my particular faunus-heritage..." he tapped his horns, "or just my body not being adjusted for it after a childhood of eating rations, but after that I tried to avoid eating meat. The last time I ate any meat was with Blake in Menagerie, shortly into when I started tutoring her in bladework, when she tried to get me onto eating fish."

**Did you not like the smell? Did your darling leave you because you would not eat her seafood?**

Adam gave her a wary gaze. Her eyes had widened, her mouth was a sly grin, and she seemed to be particularly proud of herself judging by how her long ears were perked up. _Must be some sort of daemon-joke I don't get_, he thought.

"Well, since Bedlam is the only one awake right now and he is not really doing anything, what can we do when there is nothing to watch on circle-vision?"

**If you wish to not be idle, I would delight in your company, Adam Taurus**. The hand that was not busily jabbing at the vegetables on her plate gestured luridly towards her torso, grabbing the edge of her clothing suggestively as if to say _'I could take this off now, if dinner is over_'.

Adam pursed his lips together and gave a low hum of disapproval. "Since we have the table, how much do you know about playing cards?"

**Cards?** Dai asked, her hand falling away from her gown.

Five hands in, Adam realized his mistake playing poker against the strange being: she knew how to bluff exceptionally well. At least he had nothing to bet as far as stakes were concerned beyond the promise of teaching her more card games – a popular pursuit of his followers in Forever Fall forest while Cinder's plan had come to fruition – of which he deemed solitaire to be the best one to teach her first.

Despite his reservations about her, and his entire situation essentially reducing him to being her plaything, he did feel some pity for her. If she was going to end up alone for years after all of his incarnations died, he wanted to leave her with some entertaining thing to remember him by.

She might not be a faunus, but at least she wasn't human.

J

"You expect me to believe that?" Lichen looked at Dominic with a severe expression that told him she was not going to accept that he was not Adam Taurus, but in fact Adam Taurus' long-lost twin brother who had journeyed from the kingdom of Vale to the White Fang HQ to meet his eerie-lookalike for the first time, right before the HQ had been attacked by the creatures of grimm drawn by the negativity of the inhabitants caused by the defeat at Haven.

"Why would you not? It is what happened." he responded, feeling particularly clever with the simplicity of it all: it was not like he had known about the relic before he had fumbled upon it and its method of activation. Why would Lichen be any different? "Besides, what other explanation would there be if he is not my long-lost twin brother? We were separated at birth, him being sold to the SDC while I somehow ended up in Vale to be raised in the woods."

"Your sword, though..." she began.

"Yes, Adam had a second set in case of an accident made, which he kept at the HQ. He thinks that I will be able to use it as well as he does, given some training."

"You know what your brother is? What he has done?"

"Yes. I believe in him and his cause completely, Lichen. I don't want any other _families_ to be rent asunder like mine was, because of prejudice." Dominic said through closed teeth, "and while you may not share in our calling, fighting for faunus freedom, I am happy to know that you will at least allow that we have to continue doing it."

Lichen was silent as she processed all of the half-truths and blatant falsehoods Dominic had poured on her. A tale of a hasty meeting as the grimm descended upon the base, fighting side by side through hordes of monsters to get back to the city. All for the faunus.

"If it eases your conscience, I should be gone in a couple of days. An unexpected issue came up while we were here, someone else that I need to find, before I can move on." Dominic stood up and made to leave the living room, but then paused to deliver the coup de grâce: "and Lichen, Adam told me about all that you have done for the faunus in Mistral over the years, and I saw the disrepair of your house, so I spent some time and set up this." Dominic handed her a set of documents from the hardware store he had gone to while staking out the detention facility. "I put down a deposit with your name on it at this location, you just need to decide what you want your kitchen to look like. There's a floating amount attached to your customer file there, too, for any other repairs you want done here. I know it won't be enough to fix everything that needs to be done, but you deserved it. Not just for harbouring my kin, but for taking care of faunus like Rothy and the rest over the past decade."

Lichen took the documents and set them aside. "I don't care about your lien, Dominic. Just make sure that nobody ever links you to me, or Salt, and we can consider ourselves square and even."

Dominic walked out of the room and began heading upstairs to the hidden door to his room.

"I like the granite countertop option, though," she called after him as he reached the last step. He smiled.

He walked into the room and met Brazen's expectant gaze.

[Like a charm, brother]

[Good. Now we can focus on our next steps.] Brazen rose from the bed and looked out the window pensively, muttering "where are you hiding?"

J

[Author's Warning: You saw the rating and title when you came in]

The cloth was removed from his face, his captor apathetically watching after allowing him to cough up the water she had poured over it. He aimed at her as he did so, splashing her boot since the rest of her body was too high, far, and he was pretty winded from the waterboarding. Seeing the act of defiance, she gave him a quick kick to the side of his gut with the offended boot. He was glad she did, since it helped him cough up the last of the water hiding in the back of his nose.

She shook her head in disdain. Excepting her communications to him through her scroll speakers, she had remained quiet. On one hand, this required him to always watch her to pick up on her commands, queries, or tics; on the other hand, her reliance on her scroll meant that Bedlam had managed to sneak a few glances at her screen which gave him some idea of what time and day it was. Unless she had thought to change the calendar on her scroll, it was a full week since his attack on Haven fell apart. She had gotten the drop on him two days ago, but had probably spent most of the first day hauling her catch to wherever he was being accommodated. Yesterday had been spent with the hooded beating, followed by the prolonged attempt to psychologically break him using her illusion semblance. Fast-forward through a comfortable evening spent with the cattle-prod tied to his leg, and one would arrive at the current day where a well-rested captor had decided to try her hand at partially drowning him.

"Not how I normally shower **cough** in the morning but I guess it sort of gets the job done, unlike Torchwick."

Another quick boot to the gut, which led to another fit of coughs and gasps.

"I should thank him for being such a pathetic human criminal: if not for him-"

_Kick, kick_, followed by a bit more gasping. She stood up from where he was tied and began preparing the cloth for another round of getting wet. She had lowered his restraining table so that she actually stood over him, reclining it just enough to keep the water out of his lungs.

He was practically on the floor.

"-then I would never have had the distinct pleasure of doing his job for him." Bedlam had quickly found that any mention of Torchwick functioned as an anger-button for her. She must have really liked working for him, or maybe they had been lovers? "That's why I don't rely on human labour. Funny, I'm like the SDC that way, except the White Fang had less workplace injuries. That's taking the Battle of Beacon into account."

She rolled her eyes at his constant, irritating banter, which he had decided was a fun way to keep himself occupied. He was no longer really worried about a telepathic semblance being involved in his detention, but thinking of new ways to insult Torchwick kept his mind off more important things on the chance that his assumption of mental safety was wrong. Down came the cloth, then the water.

Bedlam did not like the sensation of drowning. It was a new sensation to him: in Atlas there was generally more of an ice problem than a water problem. Even in the mines, they rarely had to worry about flooding. They had so many other terrors to deal with.

The cloth was removed from his face, and his captor began typing on her scroll. "WELL AT LEAST I TRAINED YOU TO SPEAK, BEAST." She smiled, tossing the cloth into the water pail, then sat down by the wall, against the soft foam that silenced the echoes, and exaggerated how comfortable it was to lean against compared to the metal table. "NOW HOW ABOUT YOU TALK ABOUT CINDER?"

"So when Torchwick kissed little boys, did he make you watch in person or just send you the videos later?" That got her to stand back up and come back over to hover over him.

_Kick, kick, kick._

_Kick._

She paused before the last one, but seemed to resolve that he deserved it. Bedlam wasn't going to apologize for disliking Torchwick, though. The human had treated the White Fang like most humans would treat any faunus -not well- which earned him no redemption points from Taurus. Just because they had both been working for Cinder didn't mean they had ever been on the same side.

"YOU HAVE BEEN HERE A WHILE NOW. I WAS NICE ENOUGH TO GIVE YOU A DRINK. MAYBE YOU ARE GETTING HUNGRY, THOUGH?"

It had been a few days since he had eaten, true, but at least the waterboarding had alleviated his concerns that she was just going to let him dry out. He shrugged insolently.

She made a kind face, smiling at him while petting him gently on the horns, "I COULD GET YOU A YUMMY TREAT IF YOU TALK ABOUT CINDER."

He considered this: whatever she was offering him would probably be something awful or racist, or both, so it was not much of an incentive. He shrugged again, which made her smile drop into a scowl.

"Where are we, anyways? I'm pretty sure that we're in the undercity, since among other things, where else could a small-time criminal's lackey-"

She gave him a quick backhanded slap to the face for that one.

"-afford to find a place to conduct such hospitality for an old associate?"

She sat back down against the foam wall and typed. "WAREHOUSE; TORCHQUIK ENERGY DRINK MISTRAL DISTRIBUTION CENTRE, BEFORE IT WENT OUT OF BUSINESS BECAUSE OF SPURIOUS LITIGATION."

"Ah yes, TorchQuik energy drinks: a similar side-effect rate as SDCola, but instead of testing their product on faunus employees Roman's family just used the general public to test new recipes. So kind of you to keep his memory alive."

Her eyes flared with anger, then softened. Her mouth curved back into the wicked grin he was beginning to associate with her having a nasty idea or sadistic thrill. She began operating the mechanisms on the table, shifting him forward and up so that he was hanging from his arms again. Once he was in place, she left the room and he heard her rummaging through something on the other side.

"You have me at a disadvantage. Clearly you know my name, but I fail to recall yours. Unless you would prefer me to keep addressing you as 'half-wit's half-pint'." The rummaging stopped.

"NEOPOLITAN"

She came back into the room, holding her scroll and umbrella in one hand, a TorchQuik energy bar in the other.

"Didn't they stop making those things five years ago?"

"YUMMY TREAT FOR A GOOD BOY", she dangled the outdated chemical-bar in front of him, impaling the end of the wrapper on the tip of her bladed parasol so that it would reach his face.

"What allergens does it have? Is it vegan?" Bedlam drawled sarcastically.

She punched him a few times in the gut, which was about how high she could reach with her arms unless she brought in the stool. However, she managed to control her outburst and settled down. She tossed the garbage bar out the door and withdrew the blade into the accessory. "WE DON'T HAVE TO TALK ABOUT CINDER IF YOU DON'T WANT TO RIGHT NOW. LET'S TALK ABOUT YOU." She came back to him, the blade of her weapon concealed yet present all the same. She placed her palm over his sternum, pressing against the plentiful muscles she found there. "GROWN MAN, BUT YOU HAVE NO HAIR ON YOUR CHEST. WHY IS THAT? ARE YOU JUST A FLAT-CHESTED FAUNUS GIRL?"

She patted the cloth of his undershorts in an overtly lewd manner, which made Bedlam avert his eyes from her gaze. The evidence to the contrary of her hypothesis was easy enough to find down there.

She removed her hand to type, "I GUESS NOT."

"Lost my body hair when I was young; I had the honour of testing SDCola Zero after it had gone through a few recipe adjustments – as well as a few groups of my peers. By the time it got to my crew, all it did was prevent me from being able to grow any hair besides what's around my horns."_ At least my father can't be said to be guilty of never bothering to teach me to shave properly, since there was never any need._ Bedlam closed his eyes, trying to forget the months of withdrawal pangs he had suffered through after escaping from his mining crew. The way his brothers in the White Fang had helped hold him down when the cravings overwhelmed him. The sight of crew six, after tasting the first batch of SDCola Lime, and what was left of their throats.

_Destroy them all, my brothers_, Bedlam prayed to his clones. _Bring humanity to its knees._

"So how did you get me, anyways?" He imagined that she would at least be proud of how she had managed that, which could put her in a better mood than his perpetual lack of cooperation had been responsible for so far in their encounter.

"SAW YOU ON TRAIN. KNEW YOU WOULD GO AFTER RWBY, WATCHED YOU FIGHTING BLAKE AT HAVEN ON TV." She smiled at that, and he knew she was relishing the memory of his defeat to Blake and Sun. "STAKED OUT WHERE HER TEAM HOLED UP, USED LEFTOVER CHEMICALS FROM WAREHOUSE WHEN YOU SHOWED UP TO KNOCK YOU OUT."

"So then you what, dragged me here? Using your semblance so that the goodly humans wouldn't think it odd?"

Neo nodded proudly, then put her hand to her chin and pondered something.

"AT BEACON, SAW DOODLES OF YOU IN BLAKE'S NOTEBOOKS DURING CLASS. YOU TWO MUST HAVE BEEN CLOSE."

Bedlam's face flushed and he felt uncertain about how to feel about what Neo had said. _Blake was still thinking about me at Beacon..._

Neo hooked the hilt of her umbrella in the hem of his undershorts before walking back out of the room, slipping her heeled shoes off as she left, the door hanging open.

"She is the one I am chasing. I don't care about anything beyond fulfilling my promises to her." _If I can just convince this minuscule moron that we would be better off working together, I can get out of this mess and back to work._ Neo's talents and pliable morals were not in question; she could be a boon to any part of his scheming triad. With three eyes on her, Bedlam was confident they could keep her obsession with Cinder aligned to their own agendas.

"WHAT IF..."

"I'm not even that upset about what you've done to me for the past while, other than it has kept me away from her." _I can just let Brazen deal with her, since she is pretty much doing the same thing as him... for different reasons. __Brazen could show Neo a thing or two about torture, so if they find Cinder they can interrogate her properly about her strange abilities_. That sounded like it might be a problem later on, but not _his_ problem later on. Brazen would handle it fine, certainly. "I think that, despite all of this, we can still-"

"...BLAKE WAS HERE RIGHT NOW?"

Bedlam went silent. Bedlam's mind stopped thinking.

Blake Belladonna sashayed into the room, emphasizing her hips with every step. Her eyes a solid, sparkling amber. Her hair a lustrous ebony, growing long and hanging down her back in a familiar cascade. Perfect pointed ears sprouted from the top of her head. Black lacy vest over a white undershirt, white shorts and full, dark stockings that came up to meet the edge of the shorts.

Bedlam gave out a ragged moan, "No..."

"I WOULD BE YOURS AGAIN, ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS SAY WHERE CINDER'S HIDEOUT IS." Her mouth moved in sync with the words lilting out of the speakers.

"You're not her. You're not her!" Bedlam cried, struggling frantically against his bonds now, ignoring the welts on his arms and legs where he had been shackled for however long without expending his aura to protect his limbs.

'Blake' pulled the umbrella, giving it a solid, steady tug so as to give gravity a helping-hand in getting it to the ground. His undershorts came along for the ride, stretching, as his legs spread apart, coming to a stop at his knees while the umbrella dangled between his shins and scraped the floor. She let go of the umbrella, letting it swing like a pendulum between his legs. It was not alone in that, which earned another wicked grin that he had never before seen on Blake's face.

Bedlam stopped moving, forgetting even to breathe. That was fine: his brain was not getting much oxygen anyways; his eyes drank in the sight of the object his singular affection posing in front of him.

She grabbed the umbrella by the tip and slowly slid her hand up the fabric towards the handle, then retracted the path until her hand was back at the tip. She lifted the umbrella by the tip out from the cloth, grasped it by the handle and pressed a button to expose the tip of the blade.

With a quick, deft slice, she bisected the undershorts and watched as each pant collapsed to the floor.

"WOULDN'T IT BE NICE TO FEEL ME AGAIN, LIKE WHEN WE WERE BOTH IN THE WHITE FANG? OUR MINDS CONCERNED ONLY WITH THE CAUSE... AND EACH OTHERS' BODIES." She turned around and bent over at a right angle, showcasing how tight her white shorts were against her ass, tidily placing the umbrella beside the heeled shoes, before standing up and turning back around to cast a sultry gaze at him. Her mouth, her lips parted less than the width of her finger and wetted as her tongue slowly lashed from one edge of her smile to the other, then back before disappearing back inside seductively.

"JUST THINK OF HAVING ME AGAIN, ADAM."

"No, I can't!"

"WHY BE LOYAL TO CINDER? SHE IS NOT ONE OF US. TELL ME WHERE SHE IS, AND YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO ME AGAIN."

"No, no no. That's not right. I can't do that. This is wrong. It's not how... no!"

"YOU KNOW YOU WANT THIS, ADAM. YOUR BODY DOES NOT LIE." 'Blake' grabbed ahold of the other thing that had been forced to hang between his legs after the umbrella had pulled down his clothes. Taking his semi-erect penis by the tip with one finger, she slowly slid her hand up the length of it towards the base, then retracted the path until her hand was back at the tip, like how she had treated her weapon as she had retrieved it from his last piece of apparel. She lifted him by the tip to be horizontal with the floor, rubbing it along the bottom of his shaft with her other hand.

"Please, no, don't, we can't... Blake, please... we can't. It's not safe. I haven't finished the job. We can't do this. I'm not done saving them." He forgot that she wasn't Blake, his fracturing mind fighting itself as he tried to remain steadfast against the manipulation while his heart began to race.

_She is so beautiful_.

Her hands ceased roaming and caressing him, coming to a standstill. Her head angled to the side and she gave him a curious look.

"We can't be together until... until the faunus are free." His cheeks were wet, and not from the waterboarding.

The hands released him, but his turgid arousal kept him level with the floor without support.

"ADAM TAURUS, HAVE YOU EVER DONE IT WITH BLAKE?"

Poignant silence.

"ADAM TAURUS, ARE YOU A VIRGIN?"

More silence, before 'Blake's' face again took on the alien, wicked grin of his captor. The hands came back onto him and began forcefully kneading the shaft between one another, eliciting a lasting groan from him that stretched until he reached his full size, at which point the attention suddenly ended and she moved a step back again to admire her hand-iwork.

J

High above Bedlam and Neopolitan in a well-furnished building owned by Ozpin's secret society, where Qrow had brought the children he had somehow become responsible for, asleep in her bed and made content by the reformation of her huntress team, Ruby Rose moaned out as she slept, "now _that's_ a katana!"

Weiss Schnee, unable to get to sleep on the floor (where she had been forced since she had arrived after beds had been claimed) as quickly as her roommate and team-leader, heard this and shook her head with disgust. She sat up and launched her useless, soft pillow at Ruby's face.

"You've been reading that _filth_ again, you dolt!" Weiss hissed, before realizing that she now had **no **pillow, which was worse than having a bad pillow. Her shoulders sagged with resignation as she got up and strode to where her 'super-bestie-better-than-the-restie' lay on the mattress, the sheets pushed down to Ruby's waist to alleviate the heat of the summer night.

"I'm taking this," Weiss informed the sleeping sniper, taking the harder pillow from under Ruby's head. A frown came upon Ruby's mouth, making Weiss feel charitable. "You can have _this one_," she whispered as she shoved the soft pillow under Ruby's head as a meagre replacement to the one that Weiss had claimed for herself.

Weiss crawled back to her pile of blankets on the floor with her pillowy prize, snuggled back up and tried to make herself comfortable despite the circumstances; then she whispered, "goodnight, Ruby."

J

"I'VE REALIZED I WAS GOING ABOUT THIS ALL WRONG," Neo-Blake said as she left the room, giving Bedlam a precious moment to pant haggardly while his thoughts remained in disarray.

She returned soon, dragging the stool and holding a small brown leather purse from which she produced a plastic square that had a circular, ring-like impression pressing it out from its interior. She tore the condom wrapper open and approached him, dutifully dressing his manhood with the stretched plastic sheath.

"STILL NOT FULLY COVERED", Neo-Blake picked up the earlier-discarded hood from the ground, stood on the stool and forced him back into darkness. He heard her step down from the stool, kick it aside so that it bounced against the foam wall, and stand in front of him; he felt her hands grip back onto his dick, running up and down along its length again, now covered by the contraceptive device. "YOU ARE STILL A DIRTY FAUNUS, SO THIS IS TO MAKE SURE I DON'T CATCH ANY OF YOUR MENAGERIE OF DISEASES."

If he was of sounder mind, he would have remarked that Menagerie was relatively disease-free; likely due to the arid climate and hardiness of the population.

_Smooch_, he felt her lips light upon the top of his shaft, giving it a gentle kiss through the thin film. One hand continued to run along the bottom length of him while her mouth began trailing kisses, one at a time at regular intervals, from the midsection where she had placed the first towards the tip. Her other hand typed into her scroll.

"THAT'S A GOOD BOY. WHO'S A GOOD BOY? IS IT YOU?"

Her kisses reached the tip of his erection, and rather than leaving after placing the final mark of affection upon him she kept her mouth touching to him.

"THAT'S A BIG BOY. WHO'S A BIG BOY? IT IS YOU."

Neo moved forward, her lips expanding to endeavour to engulf the head of his cock while the hand not using the scroll continued to massage along underneath, sliding from the skin directly underneath his glans down to where the shaft met his brimming balls.

"I MADE A MISTAKE, THINKING THAT HURTING WOULD GET YOU TO TALK..."

Her tongue darted out and interposed itself between her lips and his tip, trailing slick saliva as it did before her lips made a new bid to let the entirety of his crown pass through.

"YOU ARE USED TO THAT. BUT YOU'RE NOT USED-"

Her lips made it over the flare of his head, and drool slopped down the shaft, spread across the totality by the diligent ministrations of her hand as it picked up speed and jurisdiction: no longer content with just the underside, it lathered itself in her spit and wrapped itself as much as it could around his circumference.

"-TO THIS!"

Clinging tightly to the plastic, her fingers sprinted up and down from his balls to where her mouth gently suckled his tip making obscene sounds which did little to allay his growing physiological response. His mind was shutting down, overwhelmed by the torturous durance of the previous session, his lack of sleep, and his own confusion about his feelings for Blake.

_She told me that we could not be together so long as our people needed us to focus on the cause_.

Neo's mouth began making progress to move further, denying her hand the freedom to roam as it had before, slowly reducing its phallic habitat as her lips continued their determined advance.

_We would have a family in a world where the faunus were free of human tyranny_.

The tip of him reached the back of Neo's mouth, causing her to spasm and cough, gurgling for a moment before the steady consumption continued unabated once she managed to repress her gag reflex.

_Always preparing for the day when we would emerge triumphant over our enemies, keeping myself purely for her. Saving all my love for our moments together_.

Neo slid back up to the tip, then released him from her mouth entirely while her palm went down to pat him gently on the bottom of his hanging testicles.

"I HAD MY TURN TRYING TO DROWN YOU, NOW IT IS YOUR TURN TO TRY AND DROWN ME WITH THESE." Bedlam felt his dick twitch, making him wonder how long she planned to do this. He wasn't sure if it was a fearful or optimistic concern anymore. His body was rebelling against his mind, and his mind was in anarchy.

Her mouth slid back down and her hand reached around to grip the back of his thigh, grasping into his smooth, hairless skin to give her move leverage as she thrust her body forward against his groin. She hit her limit and held herself in place, her tongue dancing inside her mouth to lustily greet its new occupant. After what seemed like an eternity of such treatment, her hand's grip relaxed on his leg and she pulled her head off of his dick.

She gasped for breath. He heard sporadic dripping between her desperate attempts to restore oxygen to her lungs, her amply applied oral fluids falling against the wet cement underneath where he remained prisoner, mixing with the water and numbing drug residue. Her hand came back to cup around his balls again, lifting them up to feel the measure of their mass.

He felt her forehead brush against his dick as she leaned forward to press her lips against his balls, kissing each one in turn before licking up from between them back to the tip, where her lips parted once more to fit as much as him into her mouth, then her throat, as she could manage before reaching her limit. Her tongue slavering across every surface of him it could reach inside her mouth, lubricating him so that as she began rocking her head up and down each new plunge into her throat reached slightly further.

Bedlam bit his lip, unable to focus on anything but Neo's treatment of his body.

All he could hear was the slurping, the gasping, the rhythmic suction her mouth made as it slowly made _head_way towards the rendezvous of his throbbing shaft and his firm balls.

All he could feel was her hand pressing between his leg and the table as she pulled herself forward. The chill of the metal table where it met his body's perspiration. The soft attentions of her tongue and the moist tightness he discovered behind her lips.

All he could smell was the combination of their slick sweat.

_I can't let this happen_, a shard of his mind screamed, _I can't let this human demean my love for Blake like this._

Neo's lips finally reached his balls, her nose pressed lightly upon the skin of his groin. She hummed in triumph, the vibration felt along his entire length.

_I can't let her make me feel good like this_.

Neo reared back, coughed and gasped, then shoved her head right back down to the base, her nose burying itself into his muscle-toned flesh. Her tongue shot out between where her underlip adhered to his shaft and lapped greedily at his balls, prodding them and slathering them, too, with her drool.

Content that his genitals had been completely doused with a covering of her spit, Neo reared back again and gathered her breath.

"WHERE IS CINDER?"

"I don't know!" Bedlam shouted, desperate for her to stop while his body craved for her to continue.

She stopped, and he heard her stand up. Not knowing how she would react to his confession, Bedlam was not sure what to make of the sound of her belts being unfastened, then hitting the floor one by one. Then the sound of a zipper being pulled down.

"OH WELL."

Another chaste kiss on the tip, followed by her hand playfully batting at the dick from either side so that it swung wildly between his legs like an off-beat metronome. He felt both of her hands come up to take hold of his vulnerable balls, which, like all of him, found themselves completely at her mercy. The condom did a bit to dull the sensations cast upon him, but Neopolitan overcame that by exerting more pressure through the plastic, toying with his balls - now with a single hand - and continuing to fill his ears with the sound of her debauched kisses and a new, wet sound with an unknown source closer to the ground. Her mouth latched onto his dick again, immersing the tip in her lips.

"No," Bedlam pleaded weakly.

He felt Neo's teeth graze tauntingly along his tip, before she brought her chin down to slam into her testicle-filled hand while burying her nose back in the dimple forming in the firm flesh between his dick and belly button. She pulled back, then thrust down again. Her tongue became flat on the bottom of her mouth, contentedly observing the passage of his dick back and forth along it as it travelled from her lips to the depths of her throat over and over again. The mysterious wet sound continued at a steady pace, _shlick shlick shlick_. He tried not to think of Blake, but a faint fishy smell – probably wafting in through the door, implying to him that he was near the docks – made him remember her attempts to get him to give up his vegetarian eating habits.

_Resist! _Screamed part of his mind.

_Release! _His body demanded.

_Think of Blake! Save yourself for her! _His heart commanded.

_Think of Blake! Her eyes! Her body when she bent over! _Body called.

_Blake would never have done this with you_, another section of his mind whispered, _all her talk about waiting, finishing the job, it was all a front. Concealing her true nature._

_Let yourself loose! _Body continued to insist.

_In the end, Blake was afraid. A coward. Just like the rest, _continued the whisper.

As Neo continued to repeatedly bury him into her throat, Bedlam felt something building up within himself. It was like he was being filled with energy, reaching a limit at which he would overflow. Momentarily he thought that it was Moonslice: had his brothers begun charging his semblance in the hopes of helping him escape his situation? Were they aware of his plight? Even if his semblance was fully powered, he had little ability to make use of it without his sword to channel the energy, making such an effort futile.

The energy accumulation felt disturbingly alien; just like how 'Blake' wasn't Blake, the feeling within him wasn't Moonslice. Similar, but wrong.

He feared that he knew what it was. He had heard about it often enough; he might have been unacquainted with the finer details of the act, but sexual relations were not entirely foreign to him.

Climax. Orgasm. The release of his precious cargo, preserved faithfully for Blake, stolen by Neo.

She was approaching her victory over him. As she continued engulfing him with the pleasure of her motions, he tried to rally himself to resist her methods.

As Neo's face struck into his groin, his faunus senses betrayed him as they allowed him to experience the act beyond what a human could perceive. As his cock came to the deepest reaches of her that it could, he felt himself reach his limit and gave in to the sensation, permitting the release of the built-up pressure through whatever outlet it needed.

The interior of the hood lit up, red, as his hair produced its signature glow, revealing the claustrophobic interior to his vision for a brief moment before everything flashed white.

He felt Neo try to rear back in alarm, emit a squeal that was squelched by his member in her throat, before spasming. She slumped to the concrete floor in a sodden splash, undoubtedly her body finding itself in the puddle of fluids that had accrued there from his imprisonment in the room and her cruel attentions over the past few days. _That will teach her to waterboard me in a room without a drain._ He heard a quick stream of something continue to momentarily splash against the concrete before the room went silent.

After several minutes, Bedlam's mind finally settled down and blood began to flow regularly through his body again. _My brothers must have charged Moonslice after all,_ he garnered, _and my body used the condom as a substitute for Wilt. I can't believe I never thought about using something other than Wilt for redirecting stored energy before now..._

_I was not unfaithful to Blake; my purity is still reserved for my love_. He had not climaxed, as far as he could tell; not that he had any prior experience to compare it against.

His fatigued body and mind cried out for sleep, but an alarming thought came to him just as the whiff of a metallic odour, probably Neo's blood, made it through the thick hood.

If he had just accidentally killed Neo, who was going to get him out of these chains? He cursed himself. If she hadn't interrupted with that seductive sequence, he felt like he could have convinced her to join 'him' (see: Brazen) in the hunt for Cinder so that he (see: Bedlam) could be left alone to pursue his own agenda.

It didn't have to end this way. Nobody had needed to die here.

_Also, mental note: figure out what happened here in more detail later so that when I do eventually experience similar circumstances with the real Blake, I don't accidentally kill her with my semblance._

What some people would call torture, Bedlam preferred to think of as a learning experience, an opportunity for growth.

He rattled his shackles, racking his mind for a solution.

J

Brazen raced through the dark streets back to Lichen's house. He had spent the entire day, and much of the evening, searching the undercity for clues of Bedlam or Cinder's whereabouts. Hazel, back in town for a few days, could be dealt with eventually but before he could face the burly man again Brazen needed to secure his aura's integrity: which meant finding Bedlam wherever he had ended up. Also, he had learned that the three of them having identical pants had resulted in Bedlam getting dressed in Brazen's clothes, which meant he had gotten captured with Brazen's wallet in his pocket. Not life-threatening, but there had been a substantial amount of lien in there from their little trick before the second split in the White Fang throne room.

As Brazen wandered the lamp-lit streets searching, he felt Moonslice gaining power but in a strange way: like if he were to watch himself practicing swordplay in the mirror. It felt backwards. He knew Dominic had stayed on guard at Lichen's house, on the off-chance that she tried to betray Adam anyways or if Bedlam showed up at the house with no means of communication. Brazen and Dom, having means of communication, took full advantage of their scrolls as Brazen sent Dominic a message telling him to meet him in their room.

_My twin also had nothing better to do_, Brazen accepted. Between waiting for his ship to sail into port and waiting for word on Bedlam's status, Dominic was all too happy to accept guard detail.

It worked to Brazen's benefit now, for as he approached the house his brother was visibly waiting for him through the open window of their bedroom. As he approached the safety of Lichen's house, Moonslice discharged: he felt that whatever energy his semblance had stored up had been released.

"Did you feel that?" Brazen asked as he clambered through the opening.

"It felt like our semblance was charging up, but it felt different. Like flying a bullhead upside-down and wondering why the sky looks strange."

"It felt weird," Brazen agreed. "You didn't do it, though, so that means that something must be happening with Bedlam."

"What does that mean for us?"

Brazen and Dominic pursed their lips, each thinking it over.

"Maybe he... maybe it ended." Dominic said, removing his glove and holding out his bare hand. Brazen mirrored the gesture, and as before they called on Dai to manifest the relic on Brazen's hand alone. Nothing happened. _So he is still alive_._ If he is alive, he can fight, there's still hope of finding him... can still fight_, Brazen realized.

"Let's fight," they said together, drawing their respective version of Wilt in tandem. _If Bedlam is charging Moonslice, and having difficulty doing it right, we can help out even if we don't know where he is by charging it like we did on the train._

Their swords met, ringing through the room. Within a minute of their swords repeatedly clashing against one another, Lichen opened the door with a blunderbuss rifle aimed from her hip; "what's going on in here?" the fox-faunus cried out in alarm, clad in pyjamas. _I guess these rooms can be soundproofed only so much._ Apparently the sound of armed combat between the two brutal killers was enough to be heard even downstairs.

"Just sparring, Lichen," Brazen shouted matter-of-factly as he parried a blow from Dom.

"Learning some moves from my brother while I have the chance," added Dom as he readied his own parry.

"We haven't even pulled Blush into this," Brazen continued, advocating the case that they could be louder if they tried.

Lichen's sour expression demonstrated that she found such arguments distasteful. "Doesn't look like you need much practice if you ask me," muttered Lichen as she slowly retreated back through the doorway, "making me think they were being killed upstairs... full house of beefcake working up a sweat in my house, oh what my sisters would say if they ever saw this..." her words trailed off as she went back down the stairs, out of earshot of the duo.

"Let's hope this works!" Dominic said.

"Yeah! That son of a relic has my wallet!" Brazen muttered.

J

Bedlam felt Moonslice charging up: energy was building up, ready to be redirected at a target like it had always functioned before today. _My brothers are definitely responsible for it this time_, he thought, still uncertain as to how he managed to kill Neopolitan. Maybe if he had not had his vision impaired by the bag he would have seen, it would have made sense to him. Smell, touch and hearing had only given him more questions about the event.

He shook his hips, wagging his dick, its semi-flaccid state not as much a hindrance as the fact that it was not aimed towards any of the cables that kept him tied to the vertical slate. Even if it could be aimed to hit one of the cables, the condom had fallen off when Neo had slid off: the ample lubrication of the criminal's fluids had let it just come off with her.

_I need another blade, something in my hand that I can use to liberate myself._ Moonslice had to be channelled through an object, something that let him at least direct the energy. He preferred Wilt because the sword was like an extension of his arm, and its dust-infused metal added an extra kick to the power of his semblance.

Bedlam examined his options. He felt around with his feet, but nothing was close enough down there to grasp for use as a make-shift weapon. His hands were equally bereft of suitable tools.

_Think!_ He coached himself, trying to motivate his brain to overcome the problem. _What do people without tools do when they need one?_

His brain raced, and he was thankful that blood was slowly being redirect away from his groin to feed the rest of his body. _Between the tortures and the subsequent blood loss, it's a small wonder I haven't lost any of my extremities from this debacle._ Bedlam chalked it up to his healthy, faunus constitution. Yet another point in favour of his species!

He wondered why Neo had avoided physically maiming him (scars don't count!). Maybe it was just because she was leaving that for later: starting off with the psychological before engaging in the physical act of dismemberment, slowly increasing the severity of her malice. Bedlam's mind recalled the sight of Neo's illusion of his fingers and toes being put through the attention of the pliers.

_Fingers_.

Bedlam couldn't see, but he looked towards where he felt his right hand. _What do people without tools do when they need one?_

_They make one._

"This is going to hurt," he said to nobody in particular, "but I have the strength to do what's needed."

_For the faunus, Adam?_

_No. For myself_.

Impending agony was okay, though. His semblance would dull the pain. He had demanded sacrifice from his followers; now that it was time to lead by example, he refused to quail at what was necessary for freedom.

Very carefully, he brought up his aura on the thumb and ring finger of his right hand, while purposefully leaving his middle finger unprotected. Grasping onto the nail of his middle finger from each side with the aura-empowered digits, he grit his teeth and began to pull. _Only one shot at this, so I cannot afford to let it fall after I do it._

When his first attempt failed, he twisted his hand around and forced the fingernail against the metal of the table, using it to create leverage.

His clenched teeth did little to distract him from the pain as he applied more and more force against his fingernail, thankfully long from having not been trimmed for several weeks while his focus had been on the attack on Haven and reports on the situation in Menagerie.

Once the nail was sufficiently loosened by the act of forcing it against the steel, his other fingers managed to gain purchase on it to begin the slow process of wrenching it out.

He was glad that nobody was there to hear him scream and cry from the pain as he carefully tore out his middle fingernail, but more glad that he managed to catch it before it fell away. The length of severed cuticle was pinched between his thumb and unmutilated fingers. He kept his hand steady despite the pain, and kept a firm grip on the prize despite the slippery blood that spread out from the wound onto his other fingers.

He felt Moonslice, charged with a plethora of energy by his brothers, and aimed his makeshift tool at the cable preventing his right arm from moving. It would be a point-blank shot, which evened out his inability to see where he was aiming. His vision again went red as his hair lit up with a crimson glow, then everything flashed a total black before slowly regaining some lightness that managed to get through the hood.

His right arm fell to his side, still wearing the shackle as a bracelet but free to move, his dripping blood the testament to his unwavering conviction to his goals.

_I'm tired_, he thought. He felt Moonslice begin charging again. His brothers would help him as best as they could, endeavouring to keep his semblance fully powered until he returned to their side triumphant.

Raising his free arm to feel the top of his head and making to tug off the hood, an unexpected sound made him halt before he could liberate himself from the darkness. _How?_ he thought incredulously, before tearing the hood from his head and tossing it away into a corner. Seeing the sight before him, he grabbed onto the dangling cable just in time so that cursory inspection would not notice that he had broken his binding.

Neopolitan rolled over and smiled, her eyes unfocused, tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth, and her remaining clothing soaked by water, blood, and whatever else was in that puddle. Her left hand searched around for her scroll, while her right was shoved down the front of her unzipped pants. She found her scroll and typed into it.

"I MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO USE YOU TO GET INFO, BUT AT LEAST I CAN USE YOU TO GET OFF." Her hand wriggled out from her pants and she locked her eyes on his as she displayed the fluid clinging to her fingers. "WITH THE LIEN YOU HAD IN YOUR WALLET, I PROBABLY DON'T NEED YOUR BOUNTY REWARD FOR A FEW WEEKS."

Neo examined her glistening hand herself; having not noticed that Bedlam's hood was lying in the corner, that his eyes had been able to meet hers, and the implications that those things held for her.

_Let's see how you like it when you get hit by surprise,_ _Neo, _Bedlam thought as he anticipated what was to come.


	11. Rising Like the Moon

"_Stand firm, outlast/We won't be beaten by the past._  
_One goal, one pact/Looking forward, never back._" -**Rising**, RWBY OST, which I feel is a better theme song for Adam than anyone else in the series.

* * *

_I needed that_, Neo thought vacantly, her body still thrumming with the afterglow and her mind in a whirl of pleasure. She hadn't expected to have so much fun, especially not with a lowly faunus of all things. She'd always heard Miltia and Melanie talking about certain faunus being well-endowed in their pants, but when she had stripped Adam she had not seen anything to give that gossip any credit.

Honestly, she'd had bigger. Back in Vale, she'd been surreptitiously seeing several of Junior's muscleheads on the side while waiting for Roman to task her with a job that would require her skills. Looking back on it now, he'd probably been trying to keep her out of Cinder's way. While it had been happening, she had thought he just wanted to know as little as possible about her sexual liaisons with Junior's boys. Either way, it showed his limited paternal-esque instincts kicking in. They'd always run with a rough crowd, but he had tried to keep her from getting mixed up with the worst of their associates.

Neo fondly remembered the first time Roman and she had met. She'd just found herself locked up by the constables for setting fire to the orphanage she couldn't stand being in, he'd been caught for selling something illegal that he'd gotten less legally. They'd managed to get themselves away from the law by teaming up and the rest, as they say, is history. She couldn't really go back to the orphanage she'd torched, and why would she want to even if she could? Her mismatched colour palette, 'problematic behaviours' and resultant punishments had ostracized her from her peers; she'd been forced to exist on the periphery of the orphans' cliques, no friend to confide in even if she could speak; solitary, left with only her own fantasies.

Left with nothing more than what the orphanage managers had called her _overactive imagination_ to try to escape her misery.

Torchwick was better off than she had been, older and wiser, his personal predilections meant that he would never have any kids of his own, so he took her on as a sort-of-daughter figure. He would teach her his ways, show her how to survive in the world like he did, pass his vast knowledge along. He had an eye for talent and loyalty that would serve him well during their rise through Vale's underworld, and he had said that he saw immense promise in her even in her youth. Even before she had unlocked her semblance.

"What's your name, little one?" he had asked her as they waited for a police patrol to pass by the building they had taken refuge in after their break-out. She'd been too young when Mountain Glenn fell to remember her parents' name for her, and her state orphanage designation wasn't much of a name that she would want to continue to be known by. It wasn't like she could have told him her name, even if she knew. She shook her head at the pen and paper he had offered her.

Free from prison, the pair had been hungry. He took her to get something to eat. She veered towards the icecream parlour because it was brightly lit and she had always possessed a sweet-tooth; the orphanage's paltry state-funding meant that she had never had such opportunity to indulge it before.

"We've got enough for one scoop for each of us, girl," Roman had said, having planned out how to use their limited funds through the next week. Beyond that, he had said that they would have to obtain further lien _creatively._ "What's your choice?"

She scanned her options and almost immediately decided. Neopolitan, the three-flavoured icecream. Why settle for one flavour when she could get three for the same price? It also appealed to her colour scheme, her heterochromatic eyes. She pointed at the label, and the attendant filled a cone with it. Roman had understood her chain of thinking, though he himself went for some sherbet. "Well, it's as good a name as any," he had remarked casually about her choice, "glad to have you on the team, Neopolitan." Neo, for short. The name had stuck, and their footprint in Vale's criminal underground had quickly grown.

Roman Torchwick, the finest thief in Vale. Intelligent, charming, and devious rather than ruthless, which set him apart from the rabble of criminals. Able to get anything he wanted or, for the right price, anything desired by a client. He had built a life of luxury for himself, and his young accomplice.

Neopolitan, the girl who had finally made her fantasies of being on top of the world a reality.

A fragile reality.

Just like her semblance, it had shattered when Cinder had gotten involved. When Cinder had gotten Roman killed for the sake of her schemes.

Neo had angrily blamed Torchwick, for a while, for letting them stay involved with the revolutionary for so long. What happened to his eye for loyalty? Surely he knew Cinder would betray them. They had had nothing to gain, working with Cinder.

She had spent weeks like that, before realizing that it wasn't productive to blame her friend. Her dead partner. It would be much more productive to blame Cinder, the stranger. She knew Cinder had represented Mistral for the silly huntsmen tournament that all the social elites worked themselves into a frenzy over. She determined to make her way to Mistral, since that was her best lead on tracking Cinder down. _How hard could it be?_

It was very hard, as it turned out.

Nights were the worst part of it. Nights where she couldn't find lodging and had to sleep in fallen logs. Her mood was never great, focused as she was on what she had lost, so grimm were always a threat. She didn't always travel alone, disguising herself as a wayward waif when able to make simple rubes take her in. The trouble with that was that her semblance required concentration. Concentration required consciousness. Sleep required a lack thereof. Finding that the small girl they'd taken on out of pity earlier in the day was a young adult illusionist had not been met with further charity. _The lien I stole from them was paltry, too!_

So she had slowly made her way towards Mistral, careful to avoid unnecessary risks, stealing and conning as she went. At least Roman had ensured that her face had never made it onto a wanted poster, so she did not have that concern to worry about.

Which brought her here, to the undercity of Mistral, wallowing in a puddle of various fluids underneath her publically-wanted, high-bounty, and exceptionally well-built prisoner, riding the remnants of her orgasmic high.

Unlike her time spent waiting in Vale, there had been no convenient time to indulge her wanton female needs while travelling. _I really needed that_, she concluded. She felt her hand still shoved down her pants to reach her clit and smiled lazily. She reached for her scroll, rolling over and reaching to find where it had fallen into the puddle. She typed a message into it, and after a negligible delay she heard her words come out from the networked speakers she had connected to her device.

She pulled her other hand free from where it had been playing with herself, enjoying the wet residue that clung to her digits.

Adam's words earlier were a bit disheartening. Had he meant them? Had he just been desperate to stop her lewd actions, or did he actually not know any more than she of Cinder's present location? Neo found she didn't really mind. Despite his dick being physically proportionate to the average – taking into account his rather massive height – whatever had happened at the end had more than made him her number one lay of all time. The unbelievable pleasure she had felt from _whatever_ he had done... she needed more of that. She would also have to have what could be considered a chat with Miltiades next time she saw Junior's ward. Not only had she misled Neo about faunus' bestial endowment, she had not mentioned anything about whatever Neo had just experienced. Maybe the Malachite twins had not slept with half the White Fang in Vale, as she had claimed. Or maybe Adam Taurus was just special?

She looked up at his face. He had a very beautiful, deep blue eye. Then he had a very ugly, scarred branded eye. The asymmetry of his face made her want to stare and it made her want to look away at the same time. She felt like seeing his face was important. _Maybe it feels important because he had always worn a mask as long as I've known him, in all his wanted posters_. He had hid the brand, so that she was one of the few humans who had seen his face.

_Humans did that to him_. Was he ashamed of the brand? From what she knew of him, it probably served as a constant reminder of a time in his life when he was weak or something. She wondered if Cinder had seen him without the mask. She wondered if she could top what the Schnee Dust Company had done to Taurus, to make him remember her. Then she thought of how the brand sort of made him heterochromatic, too, just like her. Her heart beat a little faster at that, her imagination racing as uninvited romantic thoughts began.

His unmarred eye examined her with a passive, perhaps distant expression. Maybe she had broken him. He did seem to have some sort of hangup because of his relationship with Belladonna. Neo looked away, focusing instead on her slick fingers again.

_I needed that, but I could definitely use more of whatever it was. A stronger dose._ She strained to stand up, finding that regaining her footing was difficult because of her wobbly knees. She brushed her mussed tricolour hair out of her face with the hand not clasping onto her scroll, streaking more viscous fluids through it. She wished that the warehouse had a shower in it. It had a hose and some sinks, which had let her get the water for the torture earlier, but no shower. _Who takes a shower at work_, she wondered. Well, at least she had the hose, and if that failed she could just use her semblance to make herself look presentable. Her trek from Vale to Mistral had left her clothes a tattered mess. Eventually she might need to replace them. The surprisingly large amount in Adam's wallet could help with that, if for some reason she chose not to rely on her thievery talents.

Or maybe she would just stop wearing clothes. Winter was closing in, but she could just move to Vacuo or Menagerie, or the south of Mistral even, and enjoy the perpetual equatorial warmth dressed in only the finest clothes her semblance could imagine.

If she went to Menagerie, she could imagine herself with some sexy bunny ears. Adam would be right at home among his own kind, and eventually she could get him to move past his infatuation with Blake and accept her as his owner. With his reputation, none of the locals would mind her keeping him locked up nice-and-tight. He would be a perfect toy.

Thoughts of her retirement would have to wait for her revenge on Cinder to be seen through, though.

She tucked her scroll into her bra, subtly exposing her perky nipple to her tall captive for a long moment, then had both hands free to examine her 'retirement package' where it hung between his legs. It had lost a fair amount of its prior vigour, but that could be quickly remedied. She was suddenly curious about how much she had managed to wring out of him with only her mouth: the condom was missing, but his bulging balls were still evidence of his virgin enthusiasm, stamina enough to please her further. She looked around at her feet and found it floating near the drain.

_Wait, why is all of this not going down the drain?_ Useless. It must be clogged or something. The building was several years abandoned, having been used by Roman's family before she had met him. She wondered if he had any living relatives...

She lifted up the condom, but there was no trace of semen in it. She gave it a sniff. _Did he not...?_

Well. She would fix that!

"Like I said. You're not Blake." Her pleasure-pet was clearly proud that he had managed to not finish properly, despite her due diligence. "My passion is for her, and her alone."

The condom was probably fine. She moved to put it back on, though since he wasn't hard and everything was all sloppy it didn't really go on easily. She had to massage him a bit, first. She didn't mind, the sensation of his girth in her hand was relaxing. She took a break to let it rest on her cheek, too. It was warm.

With the condom back on, she lay back down flat on the floor (beyond the area of the puddle), raised up her legs, grabbed her pants at the hip and slowly pulled off pants and panties in one go. She took off the socks, too, but since they were completely soaked from wading around in the consequence of the clogged drain she had to really struggle to get them off. She felt a bit ridiculous doing it, but Adam didn't laugh. Nor did he smile. He just watched, silently.

_At least he seems to have settled down, _she observed. She had been on the verge of gagging him, or just cutting out his tongue, a few times for the things he had said about Torchwick earlier. A filthy animal like him had no right to be so dismissive of her deceased mentor, finest thief Vale had ever known! She looked up at his mouth, which was set in a tight line to display his resolution to resist, noting his lips with interest. She would like to put those, and his tongue, to more constructive pursuits. _You get to keep your tongue, Adam,_ she smirked, _but you'll have to learn to use it!_ She looked away from his mouth before she was too distracted by her own prurient fantasies, which had quickly begun remembering pornography about a sexy teacher keeping a naughty boy late after class...

With her lower body nude, she rose back up. _He is really tall_, she realized not for the first time, but the disparity between them made her next task more difficult. How would she get her vagina, which was _here_, to his dick, which was all the way up _there_?

She did a little leap and latched onto his shoulders, his nice, broad shoulders, with her hands, and sort of hung there, dangling from him. Her breasts squished against his firm chest. She pulled herself up, letting her tongue trail along his chest as she did so. So many little nicks and bumps from his many scars, a tapestry of his suffering, she simply couldn't resist. So many scars that her own brutal sessions beating him barely composed a tiny fraction. Once she had gotten up enough, she tried to manoeuvre herself to line up with him, only to discover that while she had managed to get up high enough for the task, he had insolently allowed himself to stay no more erect than when she had managed to get the condom on. In fact, if she had to guess, it was less than that.

Wasn't she sexy?

Junior's boys, once they had gotten past the tedious "are you actually legal" questions, and the "what if Torchwick/Junior find out" nonsense, had found stuff like her prior stripshow and licking immensely arousing.

She released her hold on him, leapt off him and did a quick somersault into the puddle. She could have just dropped down, but the flip gave her a chance to show off a bit of her flexibility. _Junior's boys liked that, too._

Adam's expression remained stoic. He watched her, and was certainly paying attention to what she did, but his gaze was not lusty like the ones she had received during her escapades in Vale. His gaze was a different sort of predatory. A caged animal, and here she was poking a stick at it.

_Or poking its stick_, she chuckled.

She gave him a disdainful look while crossing her arms across her stomach. Then, leering at him, she raised her arms, and with them, her breasts, showing off her cleavage against her wet shirt and dark bra. _Still no reaction_. She took hold of his dick in her hand and began rubbing it again, which at least had been effective before. It was effective again, now. She got him erect with a bit of effort. _I don't care about your feelings for Belladonna, you're still just a man._

Stepping back, she made a circle with the thumb and finger of one hand, and repeatedly inserted a finger from her other hand into the circle. She shoved the knuckle of her hand hard against the circle. She might not be able to talk, but hopefully he could at least understand that simple bit of sign language. Having abandoned her panties probably helped the translation.

"That's not going to happen," Adam stated. _Hah, like what you want matters anymore,_ Neo thought as she stuck her tongue out, then smiled with epiphanic glee. She would not need to bother trying to climb Mt. Taurus again, she would just use the table mechanisms to get him horizontal. Then she could just ride him until she was thoroughly satisfied before having a sleep.

It had been a long trek to Mistral. She could have used a good horse to ride to get here, but she'd settle for a nice ride now that she'd arrived. She would worry about her next step in finding Cinder when she woke up.

Scratch that, she'd worry about Cinder after washing her hair. It was totally flush with grime at this point and she was going to make a priority of cleaning it up upon waking. Hunting Cinder could wait that long, at least. Roman would understand. "_The first part of looking fabulous is feeling fabulous, Neo. Looking fabulous is the first step of being fabulous. Always set time aside to make sure you feel right, whether it is properly casing a joint before a heist or just being happy with your makeup."_ Melanie and Miltia had envied Neo for that, at least: growing up with a father-figure who not only understood, but appreciated cosmetics.

On occasion, Junior had shaved his beard; between that and his expensive suits he cared little more for his appearance and had just as much to teach the Malachite twins. _Suckers_. They'd had to learn about _girl stuff_ from the net. She wondered if they were still alive in Vale.

The table lay flat now, and she impatiently pumped a foot pedal to lower him until he was pretty much on the floor. Neo was quite pleased that the warehouse had this table: she imagined they had used it to test products on less-than-willing individuals, when they were still in business. Roman's interest in crime hadn't put him at odds with his extended family, she presumed. They'd all been crooks and mercenaries, from what she had overheard him say, more often on the wrong side of the law than not. The table had a seal on the side opposite of where Adam lay which claimed that it had been 'rigorously tested to contain even the most savage faunus brutes'. She hopped up delicately onto the table and stood overtop his face, letting him get a nice clear view of what she was offering. She wasn't sure, but she felt like she dripped a little as she did so. She crouched down, keeping herself just out of range of what he could reach with his face if he chose to try to bite her. He was still a faunus, barely better than a feral animal.

With her body kneeling away from his head, she licked down along his chest until she was at his groin once more. She thought about turning around to watch his face when he felt inside her depths for the first time, but for now decided to keep letting him ogle her cute butt.

She scowled. He was deflating again.

She was still in control! She grasped it with her hand and grunted in annoyance. Adam grunted, too, from her touch. He had gotten harder, quicker, before. When she was using her semblance. She pulled her scroll out from her bra and began cycling through her photo gallery. Eventually she found a set of pictures that she had taken for Roman and Cinder while she had been working undercover at Beacon. Pictures of the huntress team who had managed to irritate their operations. Pictures of Blake. She typed into the scroll, which relayed the words through the speakers.

"IT'S OKAY IF YOU NEED ME TO PLAY DRESS-UP FOR TODAY, IF IT GETS YOU READY AGAIN. WE WILL HAVE LOTS OF TIME TO DOMESTICATE YOU." _He's lucky playing pretend is my specialty,_ she thought as she concentrated on the image of Blake; the tell-tale shimmer of her semblance washed over her body. She now 'wore' a Beacon uniform, complete with a plaid skirt. 'Her' dark black locks reminded her a bit of her disguise from when she fought in the tournament as Cinder's team's fourth member.

Speaking of members, Adam's was rising up from its dreadful torpor at last. She pulled off her top and tossed it to the side, where it slid down the foam sound-proofing of the wall, leaving herself clad in only her bra that held her scroll and ample tits. She put her hand on her newest possession's precious plump pole, pleased that her semblance managed to fool him into thinking of his lost-love, Blake, while also slightly jealous of the devotion he showed towards that ingrate.

His dick twitched, and she smiled with delight. She put the scroll down by his hip on the table and began to shimmy down his rock-hard torso so that her body met his just above his groin.

She pressed her entrance against his tip while holding the illusory skirt up to give him a clear view of what was happening. Neo considered turning around to get a look at his face when they connected, made him _hers_. Then another thought occurred to her.

She glanced back over to her vest, which had happened to fall on the hood that she had shoved over Adam's face earlier.

Her brain was trying to tell her something. Something about that seemed strange. Just like how his eyes had entranced her.

The hood that she had put on him earlier...

...

...

_When did I take that off him?_

She twisted her body around, letting her head do a full 180 degree turn to gaze once more into Adam's single blue eye. His lips. His branded eye.

Then at his single free arm, clutching a single bloody fingernail, aimed at the binding around his left arm.

Neo's eyes widened in realization, her mouth forming a small 'o' as she gasped with alarm.

Adam's hair glowed crimson, sucking all colour but red from the room. A line of blood, trailing from where his free hand had been held against the table, glowed crimson; the blood from his mutilated hand. Energy shot out of the fingernail he held, severing the cable securing his other arm to the table.

"Like I said, that's not going to happen. Time to die."

The last word seemed to resonate through the room; perhaps the dread implications ignoring the dampening effect of the walls. Neo tried to raise herself off of him but he was too fast, lurching forward and wrapping around her minuscule torso with his large, muscled arms. She was forced to gasp as his arms began to constrict.

Her brain started running again, flooded with panic juice. She flailed wildly, kicking and headbutting and scratching at him, but his aura flashed greenish-red with each blow, absorbing it all.

"I think it would be satisfying to kill you, human. More than most, after what you nearly stole from me." His tone was icy, lined with contempt for her.

Kicking. Flailing. Wiggling to escape his grasp, but it was futile. He held her securely with a single arm around her belly now, while the hand of the other wrapped itself around her throat. He was going to strangle her to death. She was too small to take him on in a close-quarters melee like this.

_No, no no no no!_ She hadn't avenged Roman! She hadn't killed Cinder!

She hadn't even managed to get in one final lay! _If there's an afterlife, how am I going to explain this to Roman? 'Sorry boss, I didn't avenge you and oh, can I borrow some clothes?'_

The air in her lungs began to grow stale. She wouldn't last long if she couldn't think of something. She didn't want to die like this, here. She had so much more to do...

"I need to!"

_I didn't say anything..._ _can he read my mind?_ Neo thought, the hand around her throat thankfully stopping its constriction.

"Useful? ...maybe." The hand around her throat relaxed, just a bit, just enough to let her breathe again. Air to stave off suffocation. Precious air to keep her alive. She gasped wildly, desperately.

_Or maybe I just made a crazy faunus terrorist even crazier, and he is talking to himself now._

"Yes... big picture...not a good idea..." His body suddenly jerked a bit, and he seemed to hesitate for a moment, collecting himself. He brought his mouth up to her ear, and she felt the heat of his fast breathing tickle her to the drum. "Now. Neopolitan. Neo. Let me tell you... what is going to happen next," Adam said calmly.

Neo's body went limp as she began to consider how out of her depth she may have gotten herself. She didn't have Roman to bail her out of this one. She wasn't going to beat Adam in a contest of strength: she was an ambusher. A sneak. Now she was a shark out of water, gasping for breath as she trembled.

"Time to turn the table on who's tyrannized."

J

Holding his erstwhile captor in his vise-like grip, Bedlam picked up the scroll from the table while keeping his eye on her. She no longer struggled, perhaps realizing the futility of wasting her energy like that, but he wasn't going to let his guard down around the woman anytime soon. She was just waiting for an opportune moment to flee, to free herself. He knew well her thoughts: for the past few days, those thoughts had been his.

Bedlam found an icon on the scroll that seemed to pertain to him, labelled "Torchquik Warehouse Systems admin". Within that, he found the controls to release his legs from their captivity. He probably could have just let his brethren continue to charge Moonslice to allow him to break his legs free as he had done for his arms, but then his sudden plan for Neo would be somewhat spoiled. The plan to trap her alive in her own device.

Bedlam stood up, stretching his arms and legs, his back. Keeping Neo held aloft with his uninjured hand, her bare legs dangling helplessly. He dialed a familiar number on her scroll, though he had never called it before himself. He heard a ringing from outside of the room. _I guess my scroll isn't that far off._ Neo's eyes glanced toward the door, too. The ringing stopped.

"Who is this?" His voice came through Neo's scroll.

Bedlam responded quickly, "I'll give you three guesses, but if you get it on the first try I think I'll need the other two myself. I'm at the old Torchquik Warehouse in lower city. In process of escaping. I'm hungry. You know what I like." Bedlam ended the call. No need to let Neo hear a response: if he was lucky she would think the initial response was a pre-recorded message or something and wouldn't think too hard about why his scroll had rung outside the room they occupied. He looked at her scroll some more, looking through the menu options. "Unless you have any food out there for me, Neo?"

She remained unhelpfully silent, wheezing a bit still from the choke-hold he had released her from. That the _voice_ had told him to let her out of. Or maybe it was just his imagination, his fatigue, playing tricks on him? It would be easier to think of it as nothing more than his instincts kicking in, preventing him from doing something rash when, before her attempt at seduction had begun, he had seen the value in letting her and Brazen work together. Yet, despite how easy it would be to ignore and forget the incident, it had seemed like so much more than that. He looked at his captive: she had had to set up a speaker system to compliment her semblance, so it stood to reason that she could not make audio illusions. Maybe her semblance had evolved, when it seemed like she was about to perish? Maybe he was just tired and delusional.

Bedlam added the mysterious voice to the list. The growing list of oddities that he had experienced during his captivity. How had Neo survived that initial hit from Moonslice, if that is what it was, directly into her face? Why was that first surge of his semblance white, rather than black? Was the voice real, or did he just imagine it? If it was real, then whose voice had convinced him to leave judgment of Neo to a jury of his peers?

Why did he only think of clever puns when his clones were nowhere in sight?

Hopefully the 'three guesses' bit had given his brothers a solid chuckle. He was confident that the _jury of his peers_ line would have at least gotten a snicker out of Brazen. _Speaking of whom, I'd better act like my twin as much as I can for the time being...__ I might not want to have anything to do with Neo for the rest of time, but Brazen might be a different story. ___I shouldn't do anything that would burn the bridge on his behalf.__

"So, as to what is going to happen now: I am going to restrain you on this table before checking out what is waiting for me on the other side of that door. My friends are on the way." Neo's eyes darted between him and the door, then to her clothes scattered about the room. "Oh, you're concerned about your dignity now?" Bedlam rolled his eyes. "Don't fret. I'm not going to kill you. I meant what I said earlier. I think you might still have some value to the goals of my faction...some value to my goals. If you let me convene with my allies, I'll be able to make them see that. If you're goal is finding Cinder, then you're better off sticking with me than trying to fight further. We may just want the same thing." He hoped that was what Brazen would say in his place. It felt right, but his mind was still buzzing from the torture, exhaustion, and desperate adrenal fear he was still coming down from. "After working with Cinder for the past year, you'll find I am much more... amenable to working with your kind than I was before."

Neo willingly submitted to having her arms shackled in the bindings that had been around his ankles, though he had to tighten them substantially because of how small she was. Instead of being spread-eagle in the centre of the table as he had been, she was forced into more of a 'T' shape at the bottom of the table. _I guess it is just as easy to refer to it as the top of the table, since it is just a flat slab of metal, so the top is where her head is resting._ Her head was resting at the edge of the table, while her diminutive body's toes barely reached past the middle of the table.

"There, see? That wasn't so bad. I'm going to get dressed, back in a bit." He examined what remained of his clothes and found that his shirt, pants, and stolen hoodie were torn up quite badly: capable of covering up his nudity to some degree, but would attract attention if he wore them in public. His shoes, socks and gloves were fine. His underwear was sliced cleanly in twain by the parasol. His blindfold was nowhere to be found. He put on the shredded pants and discarded the tattered remains of the rest on the floor of the chamber before heading out of the sound-proofed room, entering the warehouse proper for the first time. It was a large, open, empty space. Dust had collected on the floor, disturbed only by Neo's footprints and where she had seemingly dragged his unconscious body to the chamber. Windows near the ceiling of the three-story tall room would let sunlight through during the day. It looked like it had been a storage warehouse once, though all the product had long since been removed from the premises. On his side of the building were a handful of small offices. The sound-proofed room was labelled PRODUCT TESTING. Another one had a sign over the door that read MARKETING, to his left was DISTRIBUTION MANAGER. The fourth office had had its label removed.

Outside the product testing room was a desk, which seemed to have been pushed out from the distribution manager's office, around which sat some tech equipment that Neo must have been using for her audio tricks, Neo's purse, as well as the cattle-prod and his weapons. He regarded her scroll, and found that he could access a live video feed from inside the testing room. Neo sat on the table, regarding the open door. _Contemplating what I said, no doubt_. Hopefully her desire to hurt Cinder would override her fear of him long enough for him and his psyche slices to come to an agreement about what was to be done with the human. Under the desk was more of Neo's personal effects: a familiar black bowler hat with a red ribbon around its brim, a sleeping bag, a pile of energy bars that he suddenly realized she must have been eating while holding him captive. He almost felt bad for insulting them when she had tried to offer him one, now. Almost. He checked one for an expiry date, and was not surprised to see that they were five years outdated.

_It's strange, I would have thought the SDC would have bought all these up when the company was liquidated during its legal battles... to feed to their faunus miners..._

Wilt and Blush lay on the other side of the table, attached to his belt. He restored his weapon and his belt around his waist and felt relief at the weight of it hanging off his hip once more.

"Honestly, I felt more naked without these than without the pants..." he told the emptiness of the warehouse. The resultant echo startled him. Maybe it was because he had spent the past few days in the sound-dampening room, where there had been no echo; maybe it was because it was no longer impossible for him to hear his own voice, like an echo, from one of his clones. Maybe he was just a bit paranoid about sourceless voices, given the unseen speakers used by Neo and... whatever had insisted he not kill her.

The building was secure, as far as he could tell. One enemy hostile, working alone to get information out of him. The situation was managed. He went over to the door of the warehouse, keeping an eye on his captive by using her own scroll as he did so. Peering outside, he saw that the neighbourhood was lower city, near the docks. It smelled like the sea. Almost all the buildings had the look of being warehouses as well, though this early in the morning all were dark or lit by minimal lighting. _It is Monday morning_, he realized as he checked the time on the scroll. _The workweek won't begin for hours_.

Bedlam had no idea where his blindfold had ended up, but he did discover that he had accidentally taken Brazen's pants when he got dressed last time he had been at Lichen's place. _He's going to be pissed that I got them ruined._

He walked back to check on Neo. She sat on the table just as she did on the scroll screen. She turned to him warily, watching him as he removed the shattered cable that had held his arms. The cable had been severed from the shackles by each use of Moonslice, so he was not going to be able to attach them to her legs, but he was able to remove the cable from its housing on the back of the table (where it was revealed that it was a single length of cable held in place by a clasp, rather than two individual cables) so that he could tie the cable around the table's width, around Neo's abdomen, forcing Neo to lie on her back. _It just wouldn't do to let her have too much mobility_. Her legs were still free to move, but with her wrists shackled and the cable around her belly, he had some confidence in the restraints.

Bedlam grabbed her pants, thoroughly soaked through from having been discarded in the puddle on the floor. He extracted her panties from her pants, and motioned to her to let him put the panties on. She complied, her eyes averted with what might even be an emotion similar to shame. Now Neo had her bra and panties to make her look less indecent for when his brothers decided to get around to showing up at the scene of his great escape.

He regarded the puddle on the ground. He pushed the table away from the middle of the room and saw the outline of a drain on the floor. He jabbed into it with Wilt, trying to see if he could unclog it. After a few seconds, he pulled his sword up with a long strip of fabric hanging from it. _There's my blindfold_, Bedlam shook his head with disgust. He wouldn't be putting this anywhere near his eye. The water made a gurgling sound as it rushed through the pipes, reminiscent of the sounds Neo had made on him earlier. Bedlam walked out of the room, suddenly angered due to the reminder of what she had done to his body; he grabbed the cattle-prod and walked back in. Neo's eyes widened when she saw that and she began desperately shaking her head, though to her credit she did not scream or beg in terror.

"What, suddenly you don't like your little racist insult? Not so funny anymore?" Bedlam whispered in her ear. He plucked at her bra, delicately lifting it to allow him to insert the cattle-prod between the mounds on her chest, letting its tip slide down along her belly. When it snagged onto her belly button, she tried to defend herself by clenching her legs tightly together, but was unable to allay his effort to continue its movement past the elastic band of her panties. "You seem like the sort of girl who relaxes more when she has something long and hard intruding down there."

Neo continued to shake her head and thrash her legs, but despite her flexibility she was not able to reach the cattle-prod with her feet. She tried to kick at him, instead, but he easily deflected the kicks with his other arm. He pushed the prod further, deeper into Neo's panties, making her face twitch in pain when the device hitched against her sensitive hairs, until making her mouth go wide in a silent shout when he brought it to rest on her tender nub, her eyes wet with the beginning of tears.

"Now wait here, don't try to escape, and I'll not have to turn that on." Bedlam threatened, and his prisoner went rigidly still. "My friends will be here soon enough. If you piss me off, then we can see how long you can handle the shocks. Did you keep track of my record?"

No answer.

"I did." Bedlam growled at his captive, his teeth clenching in fury as he remembered enduring the torture, remembered the counting. It nearly convinced him to turn the thing on anyways, despite his promise of not using it if she behaved. Best to leave her alone until hiselves arrived. He left the room and closed the door behind him.

He checked out the other offices. 'Marketing' was completely empty. Faint outlines and small punctures on the walls suggested something had once hung there, posters or boards or the like. Long removed. 'Distribution Manager' had a lot of scuff marks from where Neo had shoved the desk out, and the middle of the ceiling sported a sturdy-seeming fan for the comfort of its occupant on hot, Mistral summer days. He flipped a switch on the wall and a light came out of the fan. Another switch flipped made the fan begin to spin. He flipped both switches again and exited the room. The unmarked room was an old bathroom, complete with three toilet stalls and a pair of sinks. A hose was connected to one of the sinks: he figured that Neo had used that to fill the water bucket up for the earlier torture session. One of the stalls had a toilet, filthy though it was; the other stalls had a shattered pile of ceramics in place of a toilet and nothing. Someone had stolen the third toilet. _Pathetic humans,_ Bedlam thought to himself, realizing that at this point he was just trying to keep himself awake while he waited for Brazen and Dominic to arrive.

He sat outside the product testing room, watching her renewed squirming on the live video feed, waiting for Brazen and Dominic to find the place. He did not have to wait long before he saw shadows fluttering along the warehouse windows, which gave brief warning before Brazen came crashing through. Dominic came through the door at the same time, his Wilt drawn. Brazen landed on the empty storage floor with a roll and had his own Wilt and Blush bared by the time he came to his feet.

Bedlam gave them a polite wave and tucked Neo's scroll into his pocket. Together, they shook their heads with exasperation. "Oh good, you're here," Bedlam called, "come on in, make yourselves at home. I'll introduce you to Neopolitan soon, she's just a bit _tied up at the moment_." He waited for a laugh, but didn't get one. "She's a former employee of our dear human friend Roman Torchwick, involved in the Fall of Beacon, blah blah blah. What'd you bring for food?"

Dom sighed and went back out the door.

"Seriously? Don't tell me you forgot food." Bedlam whined.

Brazen smirked, "no, we actually stopped to grab a pizza. He just didn't want to come into a possible fight while trying to balance it in his hands. So he stashed it outside."

_Yeah, that would make sense_. "While we're waiting, here's your stuff. I'm keeping the pants for now," he said to Brazen, tossing him his wallet. Dominic came back in with a pizza box held in both hands. "Dom, have I mentioned that you're my favourite clone?"

"Because of my inexplicable sense of style, or for my ability to do basic errands for you?"

"Yes. Now, food me please!" Bedlam grabbed at the pizza box, which Dominic pulled away from his grasp. Bedlam looked at himself questioningly.

"Test first." Dominic balanced the pizza box on his right palm while holding out his left hand. Brazen pulled the glove off the hand, then did the same to his own and laid his hand on top of Dominic's.

Bedlam put his hand on top of his twins', and as he did their red auras were briefly striped with green and the relic appeared on each of their middle fingers. Dom and Brazen seemed satisfied by that and their shoulders relaxed. Brazen sheathed Wilt, the relics fading away when he removed his hand to do so.

"Now, I believe I said something to the effect of 'food me, please'?" He grasped at the pizza box in Dom's other hand, which Dominic let him take. "Nice, green pepper and onion." He began shovelling a slice into his mouth, his nose and tongue overwhelmed by the scent as he realized just how hungry he was after days of brutality.

"So, are you going to explain what happened here?" Brazen asked. Dominic nodded in agreement; they wanted answers.

Bedlam, a gooey slice of pizza filling his mouth, apologized by way of sign language that he could not talk with his mouth full, and that they may as well tell him what they had been doing since they had parted ways last.

"I went out to the bullhead and saw our friends there. All of them. The big guy is back in town for a bit longer. Now that I know you're safe, I'll see him about my goal." Brazen said, "I couldn't really do that before now, since having you like this put all of us at risk of sudden aura depletion..."

_Oh_, Bedlam thought, realizing that he should have had more faith in his siblings' desperation to get him free for their own personal security, rather than for their personal purposes. In his defence, his mind had been attentive to more pressing matters. "Whrorry abuth thath", [sorry about that] Bedlam said through a mouthful of lukewarm cheese, while simultaneously grabbing a second slice.

"I checked out on our forces imprisoned from the Haven debacle. Ghira has gotten in bed with the local human government, and they managed to save Kuchinashi and investigate the White Fang HQ. Our people in jail seem to have given up the location of the base in return for getting remanded to Menagerie custody. I figure that will be a pretty cozy way for them to get out of dodge." Dominic reported, "at the end of the day, Ghira and the humans are trying to blame everything on Adam Taurus. It would seem that I led the impoverished faunus of Mistral astray with my _hateful words_, with my _easy spite_. The humans are scared enough to see Ghira as the lesser of two evils, so they'll let him have a stage to speak on until my head is on a pike."

Bedlam finished up his second pizza slice and considered taking a third. Dominic and Brazen glared at him - evidently upset at having lost their auras without warning and not having heard from him for days – as if daring him to take another slice of pizza before giving them an answer to explain what had happened to him. _Go on, take another slice, Bedlam,_ their eyes said, _and Wilt might make a slice in you! _Bedlam was pretty sure that his brothers would not actually attack him for making them wait, but the threat lingered there.

"So Neo, who was one of Torchwick's goons if what I gathered from what she said is honest, seems to have chased after Cinder to Mistral. She wants Cinder to make bloody reparations for Torchwick not living through the Battle of Beacon."

"He died?" Brazen and Dominic said in unison.

"Apparently. She was sure enough of that point to hike across the continent in search of your girl." Bedlam said then continued nonchalantly, "I actually saw her on the train from Kuchinashi, while moving through the cars. I didn't realize it at the time, since she has an illusion semblance that she can use to disguise her appearance."

"If Torchwick is not in Vale, I'll have an easier time of it when I return there, I suppose." Dominic mused.

"Anyhow, so Neo saw me on the train as well, and I guess she figured I would know about where Cinder went after Haven. From the news videos of Blake confronting us, and from her time spent at Beacon on Cinder's team – she has some _nice_ photos of Blake in a schoolgirl uniform with her team in class – she knew that I'd probably be found in the vicinity of Blake. So she just waited for me to show up and, when I did, she used her semblance to get the drop on me and some rancid chemicals from this warehouse or something to knock me out. She dragged me here, tortured me for information, then I escaped and now she's tied up on her own torture table in that room over there." Bedlam gestured to the PRODUCT TESTING sign. "Live video of the room on her scroll," Bedlam added, taking out her scroll and fumbling to access the transmitted video feed again. "Her semblance lets her make fragile illusions that everyone can see, but they only work on sight. She had to use audio tech to mimic the sounds, and she couldn't do anything for smell. She made me think she was chopping me up, but when I couldn't smell my own injuries I saw... smelled through it."

"We do smell well," Brazen sat down beside Bedlam, took a slice of pizza, and wrapped his arm around Bedlam's shoulders. "Tortured, you say?"

Dominic sat down on the other side of Bedlam, took yet another slice of pizza, and mirrored Brazen's one-armed hug. "If she worked for Torchwick, that racist piece of trash, I'll assume that she does not see eyes-to-eye with us on the matter of faunus rights."

"Yeah, she's human."

Together, they replied, "which begs the question, if she is human, why is she still alive?"

"You have Wilt," Dominic noted.

"She tortured you," Brazen reminded.

"Yeah, just a bit of electroshock, some waterboarding, her semblance, sensory deprivation... nothing too bad. We've certainly had worse. I think it was...I think it was her first time."

He instantly regretted how he had phrased that, as Brazen and Dominic raised their eyebrows. The video was finally visible on the scroll, and they regarded it with interest as he had spoken.

"Torturing someone, I mean." Bedlam clarified, as he realized what they were inferring from the image.

"Why is she naked?" Dominic asked.

"She's not naked!" Bedlam retorted, "she's got underwear on now."

"Why is she alive?" Brazen asked again.

"Now?" Dominic asked simultaneously.

"I kept her alive so that we could talk about what to do with her," Bedlam said, "while she was trying to get Cinder's whereabouts from me I had the presence of mind to think to myself: 'Golly, I wonder if Brazen is having any luck with his goal since I saw him last'. So even though I was very much wanting to squeeze the life from her with my hands-"

Bedlam raised his right hand and demonstrated the wound he had had to give himself in order to make use of the semblance his brothers had charged on his behalf.

"-I was compelled not to."

"Compelled?"

"What happened to your hand?"

"Yes. It was like a voice on my shoulder saying 'don't do that!' Maybe the voice was just a bit of you left in me." Bedlam grabbed another slice of pizza, "there was a lot of strange stuff that happened to me today."

Brazen and Dominic nodded on either side of him. "Like that feeling we shared earlier, before we started sparring to charge Moonslice. It felt like you charged Moonslice yourself, but you did it wrong."

"Yeah. That happened while she was sucking my dick."

Bedlam ate the slice of pizza. Neither one of his brothers interrupted him or pressed him for anything further as he did so. _I would make a big deal of that, wouldn't I._ With the slice eaten, he explained further what had happened to him; "So after the waterboarding in the afternoon, she got it into her head that pain doesn't really have much of an effect on me, as far as convincing me to tell her about Cinder was concerned."

"Our life has been a constant burden of misery and suffering," Dominic agreed, "she might be onto something with that assessment."

"Once she started along that line of reasoning, she took off the rest of my clothes and used her semblance to make herself appear as Blake. I didn't see much after that because she threw the hood over my head after she got the condom on. I felt what she did, though. Tricking my body into thinking she was Blake...making me think it was Blake touching me like that..." The thought of what Neo had nearly done to him, had done to his determination to be faithful to Blake despite her treachery, it made the pizza taste stale in his mouth as bile rose from his stomach.

"Take it easy, Bedlam." Brazen comforted gently, "we're all here, now. It's safe. You're safe."

"I'm fine. Just need a moment. Probably just ate too fast," Bedlam said, trying to deflect their concern. _Who am I kidding, I can't fool myself like that._ "Alright, I might have been a mess for a bit. I'm fine now."

"Torture, rape, and you're hearing voices?" Dominic listed, "that does not sound like something we can just wave off."

"I know, but I have to tell you what happened before I forget it all or come up with some explanation to dismiss it as delusion. I think I channelled Moonslice through the condom, with the energy she put into... put into me. It was white and red, though, instead of black like it normally is, when it fired off. I couldn't see what happened to her because of the hood, but I could see my own semblance flare from the light in my hair. I thought I had killed her with a point-blank blast to her head. Then she started moving again after lying on the floor for a bit, so I think it just knocked her out."

Brazen took his arm off and stood up, pacing in front of them for a bit. "It kind of makes sense, if you think about it."

"What do you mean?" asked Bedlam.

"Our semblance doing that," Brazen replied. "I called it Moonslice because Blake had taught me that the moon merely reflects the light cast on it by the sun. I hadn't known before she told us..."

"That's the SDC's fault," Dominic interjected.

"Yes, they didn't teach me much about anything other than how to be useful employees. At least I can drive and fly heavy vehicles. Anyways, until she taught me that I never had a name for my semblance. I just knew that I unlocked it during emotional trauma like everyone else, that it absorbs attacks so that I redirect the energy back at whoever's trying to kill me at the time."

Bedlam remembered telling Blake about his semblance, the way she came up with a name for it. _Moonslice, lighting the world when it is darkest. Justice for faunus. The way she had had her arm around me, like how Dominic has his around me now, before she had begun to fear me and what had to be done to liberate our people._

"What are you saying?" Dominic said.

"What I'm saying is that maybe Moonslice doesn't just absorb and reflect energy. It ... reciprocates intention. If someone tries to inflict pain on me, if I manage to block the attack I can reflect that hurt back at them; with Wilt, we can add fire dust to that for more damage. However, if someone tries to direct pleasure on me...while we have something in place to block and absorb the energy..."

"It dulls the feeling and sends the pleasure back at them!" Bedlam understood, then his body slouched, "but that means that I felt so little because of the semblance and not because I somehow knew it wasn't Blake doing it..." _That makes me sad_, Bedlam thought. A part of him had been secretly hoping that Neo's inability to get him to climax had had some deeper meaning, meant that he and Blake were truly soul-mates like the characters in her novels. _It could still be true, though_, he thought. _She's still mine_.

"So when he blocked the pleasure of getting a blowjob with the condom, he blasted it back at her all at once?"

"Pretty much." Brazen concluded. "What do you reckon that felt like?"

"It did knock her out, while I was blindfolded, so how would I know?"

They sat huddled together for a minute, enjoying their reunion, until Dominic ruined the moment.

"I'm just going to say what we're definitely all thinking: he fucked his way free?"

"Only you were thinking that," Brazen sighed, "I think there's more to it..."

"Don't be crude, Dom. Plus, you two definitely helped. Without Moonslice being charged normally, I still would have been restrained by the shackles on the table like her arms are now and she would have just woken up anyways. With the pair of you powering up Moonslice, I was able to break the ones on my arms after ripping off my nail to make an object to channel the energy through. Subdued her before she managed to go any farther."

"Good thinking with the nail, grisly as that must have been." Brazen congratulated, "she wanted to go farther? Sexually, you mean?" If Bedlam didn't know better, he would think that his clone seemed somewhat too eager to hear more about that.

"Of course she would. Look at us. We're pretty good looking (or at least, I am), why wouldn't she want as much as she could get?" Dominic hummed, flexing the arm that was not around Bedlam to show off his bicep. It was not particularly effective through the loose sleeve of the trenchcoat, but his audience knew all-too-well what was under the clothes.

Brazen snorted derisively, "what do you mean, we all look the exact same!"

Dominic brushed off the sleeve of his trenchcoat not presently being used to console Bedlam, "well, some of us seem to have chosen to have a better sense of fashion."

"Hey, the goggles and scarf looked good on the guys I took them off of!"

"Yeah yeah, you rolled some homeless guys without fashion sense because he looked better than you. Good job."

Bedlam had missed this, just sitting together with himselves, feeling completely at ease. Even with Blake, there had always been the sense that each of them were holding back. With his brothers, there were no secrets. They knew everything about one another, and if the strongest relationships were based on trust, then theirs was solid. _The next time I see Blake, I have to be more open with her. About my feelings. I can't just expect her to understand my thoughts, my feelings. That's not fair to either of us. _A few minutes passed as they ruminated the pizza and what had been said, until Bedlam broke the silence.

"So what now? Should we head back to Lichen's?"

"Well, the thing about that..." Dominic started, sheepishly, "...is that Brazen and I may have both been in the same room with Lichen at the same time. I passed it off as me being his long-lost twin brother, separated at birth, which anyone who is not versed in the existence of magical relics would believe more quickly than they would a story about magical relics existing. I suspect that Lichen may be someone not so knowledgeable about such subjects. With that said, when you were taken my first fear was that Lichen had decided to turn on me... it made me realize that despite our history, we cannot trust her much more than we trusted our lieutenants at headquarters. We should be looking for alternative lodgings. Something that we have a bit more control over," Dominic motioned at the wide open space of the warehouse, "this place might fit the bill, if there are no other occupants."

"I think it is just the four of us." Bedlam said, somewhat uncertain. He yawned, "I've been awake for days, guys, and not by choice. If there are no other burning questions to answer, I wouldn't mind actually getting some sleep."

His brothers nodded.

"What about the human?" Brazen asked.

"It's up to you," Bedlam replied, "but I think you should keep her alive to help track down Cinder. She might be human, but at least she is a criminal human. Makes her a bit more aligned to what we need from an ally right now. At least she won't go teaming up with Blake anytime soon. Having a human on our side that does not work for Salem might be useful on its own." _Yes,_ Bedlam thought, _it is me that thinks we should keep her alive. The voice was just because of how tired I am, hungry I was, scared of what Neo was threatening._ There was no need to think any deeper on that, now that he had the opportunity to rest with a full stomach.

Brazen nodded.

"Don't screw up our biggest secret, at least not until I've corralled Blake," Bedlam warned. "If you need to, you can always throw the hood on her head to blind her. After that, she won't be able to tell your voice apart from the other, or from mine." Bedlam got up, unlatching Dominic's arm from his shoulder as he did so, and strode over to the desk where he picked up the sleeping bag. He scrunched it up and used it as a makeshift pillow; Neo wouldn't have needed a pillow for it since she was so short there was plenty of material leftover to fold over for her head to rest upon. It was too small to fit Adam Taurus, so now it would just act as something soft on the cement floor of his new base.

"This place needs a throne before we can consider it a base," Dominic muttered, echoing Bedlam's thoughts. "We'll keep watch, you get some sleep. What are your plans for when you wake up?"

"Today I should meet back up with Hazel after I evaluate Neopolitan, I guess. Maybe she can help me with meeting Hazel, or with navigating the human underworld of the city." Brazen said, then took out the wallet which he had retrieved from Bedlam,"I have lien to buy information, but that is no good when the brokers are racists, looking to collect on my bounty, or both. Usually both. If Neopolitan seems amiable to a team-up, she could act as my face for such information brokers' services."

"Blake." Bedlam responded simply. _I've left her unwatched for too long. Who knows what she has done while I wasn't there? For all I know, she could be on a ship with her father back to Menagerie already. What will I do if that happens? I would be forced to bide my time until I could get a separate passage there._ His thoughts recalled Brazen's description of the jellyfish grimm. _If this Salem person is truly allied to me and can control the grimm, perhaps there are... non-conventional means of travel I could entertain?_

Fighting nevermores and lancers had been exhausting, but Bedlam wondered how it would feel to ride one? His curiosity shifted into budding dreams as he started into a restful sleep. Brazen lay his head on his left arm, while Dominic examined the wounded left finger on his right.

"Aura stopped the bleeding, but I'm not sure if the nail is going to come back in." Dominic said, "speaking of which, did you notice how fast our aura regenerates now?"

"That's fine. Who'll see it? I'll just wear the gloves anyways," Bedlam replied. "I noticed my aura regenerating quickly, and so did Neo, which is why she decided to stick the cattle-prod on me for a while to encourage my aura to stay down."

"Are you sure you'll be okay after all this? You can talk to us. No secrets from ourselves." Brazen said from where he lay on his arm.

Bedlam considered what had happened, what he had told them.

"There is a chat log on her scroll of everything she asked me through the speakers. She didn't speak once, herself, so everything is on that scroll. You should read through that before you go in there, so that she doesn't realize you're not quite me." He gave the scroll to Brazen, who began going through it diligently. "She didn't get what she wanted," he whispered under his breath, though he knew that they could hear him. "About Cinder, or to spoil me for Blake. I'm still only for her."

Dominic ran his hand through Bedlam's hair, gently patting him on the horns. Brazen nuzzled against Bedlam's arm that he was on. The warehouse returned to silence, save for the distant hum of city traffic and the chirp of a lonely cricket echoing in the late summer air.

J

With Bedlam asleep on the floor, Dominic stood up and did a tour of the warehouse. He told Brazen what he found: nothing remarkable, but Brazen did his own tour while Dom sat by Bedlam.

"This place is pretty bleak," Brazen agreed afterwards. "At least there's a toilet."

"So what do you think?"

"I think we have to test out Moonslice's new thing under more controlled conditions. Preferably ones where we can see what is happening. I think Bedlam needs rest, but he's me: so he is going to dive back into his mission and bury his feelings about what happened here. I think we should stay here and ditch Lichen's place. Too many people in that neighbourhood that could identify us, if they felt so inclined."

"What's the transcript on the scroll like?"

"It's a thing. She's definitely absorbed a lot of what Torchwick thought about our people. She calls us animals, beasts, a lot." He scrolled through the messages some more. "Hey, it's not that strange that we don't have hair, right?"

"We have the SDC to blame for that, so I would say it is something I'm a bit self-conscious about. Maybe not so much as the eye, but still..."

"She mentions that here. Then she... ah, that's when she started trying to seduce him. It feels sort of wrong to read this. Her, pretending to be Blake for him. Calling us out for being a virgin." He scrolled through some more, continuing on despite his reservations about the action. "Oh, that's racist, too. This is going to give me a terrible first impression of her."

"That's probably for the best. She did torture us, or at least attempt to. The human is not our friend." Dominic replied tersely, "it'll be your job to get her in line."

"You mean you don't want to _dom_inate her?" Brazen chirped. It was clear that he had been waiting for that opportunity. Dominic rolled his eyes, and Brazen was satisfied by his pun's effect and returned to the scroll. "Ah, she seems to have gotten wise to the fact that Bedlam has no idea where Cinder is, and decides to keep him as a pet anyways. Lovely."

"A pet?"

"Yeah, apparently whatever Moonslice did to her left a good impression," Brazen said, then hummed pensively, "we need a better name for it now, since there are sort of two versions of it. How about 'White Moonslice' and 'Black Moonslice'?"

"That's just lazy."

"Well, come up with something better!" Brazen changed the scroll to view their captive. "I think she's fallen asleep. Her eyes are closed and she's not moving."

"Are you sure she's not dead?"

Brazen shrugged. "Bedlam didn't kill her, so I'm going to say she's still alive."

Dominic went to watch the street from the exterior door, leaving Neo's welfare in Brazen's hands. _She's probably just asleep._

He got up and went over to stand behind Dominic. "Anything happening out there?"

He shook his head. The sun was still hours from rising, the moon hanging brightly in the firmament. "So, about White Moonslice..."

"Terrible name will have to suffice until we think of something better," Brazen said.

"Well, I was thinking that if we could charge up Black Moonslice on the train by sparring against one another..." he wrapped his arm around Brazen's middle, "there might be a similar method of testing out this new version."

"What exactly are you proposing?"

Dom tipped his head to the side, locking his horn under his twin's.

J

"You didn't tell me I could do that, Dai."

His glowing green host was huddled on a sofa couch she had conjured from the ever-present mist.

"He heard me talk, or at least reacted to what I said when I dove into him."

**Ozma never did** **that**, she muttered sullenly, **of course, he never put up with being in here at all. Kept his aura all to himself.**

"Who is Ozma?"

**The wizard-immortal, the agent of Light. A human. You would know him as Ozpin, the one who entombed my relic in the depths of that fetid dungeon beneath his school. **** It was not my fault his choices ended like they did. Personally I think he simply prefers to believe in destiny: order instead of chaos. He calls me a monster...**

"Well, that's just how humans see anything that is different, strange." Adam remarked. He looked back at the floating rings. "I couldn't do that before, though. Why was I able to implore him to spare the girl?"

**He said my name. It opens the portal a bit, as part of the magic of the relic that lets me know that I am being summoned. Since you were viewing life through his senses at the time, you were able to manifest a bit more strongly for a moment. Enough to attempt to influence his action.  
**

Adam watched as his bodies reunited in the warehouse. "So if one of them says your name, or something phonetically similar, and I'm viewing their ring, I get to play conscience?"

**When the gods created the relic, it was to provide humans with the power of choice between good and evil. So everything here involves that choice in some way. It seems that letting the human live, in this instance, was the 'good' thing to do.**

Adam was silent at that. It was a lot to process. That was fine: he had plenty of time in the Between Realms.

"I thought conscience was a little thing that sat on each shoulder, telling you to be a good employee or a bad employee," he said, remembering the SDC's colouring books given to the minor miners. He'd coloured his entire page black with charcoal, earning himself a beating by his taskmaster. "How do you know letting her live is good? For all we know telling him to let her live was evil. Shouldn't there be another Adam here, to tell my bodies to do the opposite?"

**Oh, darling Adam. Sweet, innocent boy. I know it was good for the same reason that I can answer your second question. There _was_ another voice in his ear, but he chose to listen to yours instead.**

Adam's attention was fixated on Dai as she rose from the couch, the gentle roiling of her wings enough to propel her upwards into the air.

**I know that telling Bedlam to spare Neopolitan was good, for the simple reason that _I told Bedlam to kill her_.**

Dai flashed a needle-toothed smile that nearly stretched from the base of one of her long ears to the other, and as Adam stepped back he once again wondered what Dai had done to deserve the brother gods trapping her in this green eternity.

**Thank you for teaching me how to play cards, Adam. Let me return the favour. Let me teach you how to play _my_ game.**


	12. Mute-Cute

**BRAZEN**

Dominic sat propped up against the wall of the warehouse, a few feet from the entrance. Brazen considered it the entrance, despite there certainly being other means of ingress (such as the window he had crashed through dramatically, or the receiving bay garage-style vertical sliding doors built to accommodate truck shipments), because it was the one they used. He didn't feel like climbing up to the windows every time he wanted to enter, and the truck doors were locked shut with chains.

There was evidence that the entrance had also been locked up. Neo must have forced her way into the building; she didn't have a key, but knew the place would be abandoned? Or perhaps she just liked its association with Torchwick.

Brazen lay flat on the ground, idly making dust-angels with his arms and legs.

"So... what did you think of it?"

"Probably exactly what you thought of it," Brazen replied quietly. They were a good distance from where Bedlam slept, but they didn't want to wake him up after all he had been through and, more importantly, to the sight of their flushed faces.

"It felt surprisingly similar to charging up Moonslice," said Dominic.

"Just that slow build-up of pressure, the incessant desire to release it." Brazen continued the thought, "I can understand why he thought that she was having such an effect on him, given the circumstances."

Neither one had dared progress their experiment to its natural conclusion. The sweat they could explain to Bedlam as having been from needing a shower, of having been running around the city searching for him without pause. Despite their inexperience in the activity, they knew from second-hand accounts and his time spent in a wilderness camp with a few dozen sexually active faunus that the aroma they would produce would tip Bedlam off to what they had done.

It wasn't like what they had done seemed to have been effective anyways. _At least, not effective at charging my semblance,_ Brazen considered. The thought came to him that merely trying to rub one out to charge the novel 'White Moonslice' had had a slim prospect for success; from a logical perspective, the act had failed to replicate numerous factors that Bedlam had implied contributed to his discovery. Neither he nor Dominic had worn a condom while they explored their newfound disjunction between who they now were and the notion of _saving myself for Blake Belladonna_. Neither of them had imitated the parries or thrusts that had allowed them to charge Moonslice on the train or in Lichen's house while powering up their semblance to aid in Bedlam's escape: they had not touched one another, and it wasn't like he had ever once before expected to charge up his semblance by polishing his blade. Yet here he was, feeling slightly guilty as Bedlam lay on the other side of the empty warehouse, his blood still pumping from the attempt.

Brazen looked at Dominic, finding that his brother had turned at the same moment to regard him. Each of their minds wondered simultaneously: _should we try it differently? Should we try it again?_ Brazen didn't feel like he was quite up for it, mentally or emotionally. It was enough to sate his curiosity, his desire to change, for now. Dominic nodded slowly, then reached for his pants.

"So, now what?"

"Not sure. Sort of a new situation everyday with you two. I guess we're supposed to be on watch until he wakes up." Brazen said, "probably for the best that we didn't manage to replicate the anomaly he experienced. Even if we did charge up White Moonslice, what would I do then? At least on the train we had a clear target. What am I going to do with White Moonslice? Fire it at you and have you tell me how it felt?" He thought about that. _He could use Dom as a test target..._ "No, even if I was sure it wouldn't just do what our semblance normally does and tears into you, we have no idea what sort of lingering or ongoing effects result from getting hit by it." He looked at Neo's scroll; the image of the scantily-clad woman tied to a table, "I mean, we hope she's asleep but what if she's just brain-dead?"

"She messed with me, maybe she already was."

Brazen scoffed amusedly, "yeah, maybe. Even if it doesn't mess the target up, what's to convince her to give reliable feedback?"

"What are we going to do with her?"

_A good question_, Brazen thought, _one which I would like the answer to_. "Would she be of any use to you on your journey?"

"I can't think of how having a prisoner while travelling on a boat to Vale would make my life any easier," Dominic said, "and Bedlam seemed to keep her for you, not me. Not that I care. She wants what you want, so it would be easier to convince her to aid you than it would be to coerce her to serve me, even if she has some of Torchwick's skills at operating in Vale."

"Alright. I'll have Neo assist me in locating Cinder, once she's willing."

"Yeah, I bet that's all you want to do if she's willing," Dominic said with a smirk. Brazen responded by flattening back out on the ground and making another cloud of dust rise up. "Don't think I haven't noticed you keeping an eye on that scroll. I'm not judging. It certainly helped you out for our semblance test."

Brazen wanted to argue that it had been part of keeping watch. That Bedlam would feel safer knowing that his brethren were watching over the woman who had inflicted herself on him, making sure she would not gain freedom nor pardon while he slept. Dominic came over and snatched the scroll out of his hand; Brazen did not resist the grab. "I guess she's still asleep. How exciting."

Brazen lay on the ground for a while, mulling over his thoughts about Neo. She was dangerous and human, but under their control – for the time being, anyway. Would he be able to sway her to his side? To get her to willingly cooperate with him so that they could track down Cinder? Neo clearly wanted to find Cinder, so perhaps it wouldn't be too difficult to overcome that hurdle. The hard part would be getting the vengeful illusionist to stay her blade long enough for Cinder to give him the answers to the burning questions that had created him as an entity. If he managed that, could he avoid the inevitable betrayal? Neo would decide he had served her as much as he would at some point and call down the human authorities on him to get that bounty. Brazen would have to come up with some way to overcome that: either by making sure he knew when the betrayal was set to occur, or by making sure that her trap would fall apart whenever it sprung.

"If I get her to work with me to find Cinder, she's still going to betray me afterwards."

"I didn't want to spoil your fantasies of getting a rebound girlfriend, now that Blake is out of the picture, but yeah, Neo's bad news. Who knows when you'll find Cinder? Will Bedlam or I still be around, or will we have gone off on our own by then?" Dominic mused, "probably safer to make plans that don't rely on support from myself or him as core elements."

Brazen sighed. It was going to be a lot of effort to get Neo to not be a complete detriment to his goal. He hoped that she would be worth it, that finding Cinder would be worth it. He didn't want to say it out loud, but the thought of going to Salem scared him. She was _grimm_. Seeking her out, finding answers to his questions from her directly, seemed like a last resort sort-of-deal. A deal with a devil, and he didn't want to sell out his soul so easily before exploring his other options. His brothers hadn't had to see her _face_ yet, but hopefully the fact that she was grimm was reason enough for them to understand why he balked at the thought of going to her without Cinder at his side.

He needed to learn more about that jellyfish grimm, the seer. He didn't consider himself an expert of the types of grimm, but he had never heard of anything close to it before.

"So what are your plans for the day? I'll be here with Neo, I guess. Bedlam said he has to go spy on Blake more."

"I've got a few things I want to take care of around town. Going to head over to say farewell to Lichen, might check in at the travel centre to see if there has been any word from my ship yet. Hopefully the ship hasn't sunk out in the ocean. I mean, I could bum a ride off Hazel, but I'm not sure if that would get me any closer to Vale." _Or if we can really trust Hazel now that I don't have the White Fang under my command_, Brazen read between the lines.

"Would you mind going clothes shopping for Bedlam? We need at least one set of clothes for each clone, or else one of us is going to be undisguised all the time. At least none of us is worried about doing laundry."

"I'm not great at choosing clothes..." Dominic began.

"Well, don't use the relic if you can't decide," Brazen joked before getting serious again; "just get something that fits and doesn't stand out in a crowd. Something you wouldn't mind being seen in by Blake, if you still cared about her like before."

_It was so much easier to just let her choose what we would wear,_ the pair of clones thought.

"Well she's not here so we shall have to press on, boldly into the uncertainty of the future but possessed, I hope, of the dignity of pants."

"You know," Dom began, a sly smirk growing on his face, "if you can convince Neo to be your obedient little human pet, maybe you can just have her use her semblance to help you go around in public. It would be an even better disguise than hair dye and an eyepatch!"

"I think I'd pass. Even if I was confident in her ability, and her willingness, to do such a thing, I'm still not too keen on just walking around naked. Winter is coming, and I don't want my dick to freeze off just as I started enjoying the thing. I might get her to do that, though."

"Go around naked in her semblance, or enjoying your dick?" Dom replied, his face reaching maximum smirk capacity.

"Yes."

Dominic barked out a laugh, then held his hand over his mouth to stymie any more outbursts: Bedlam was still sleeping. The other hand, holding the scroll, presented the device back to Brazen. "Here, have it back. Just try to keep an eye on the entrances, too." Dominic said while handing back Neo's scroll and put on his pants, then the rest of his clothes. "I'm going to get something for us to eat for breakfast."

"Don't forget the fourth mouth," Brazen reminded, "from the look of it, she's been surviving on stale energy bars."

Dominic gave a begrudging nod, then headed out into the darkness of the industrial district. Brazen was left alone with his thoughts, and in the silence he drew up his plans for Neopolitan. His reverie was ended as Bedlam began to stir. Bored, Brazen strode over to where his other clone lay his head upon Neo's sleeping bag-turned-pillow.

"Did we figure anything out while I slept?" he asked, wiping the sleep from his blue eye as he leaned up from the floor. "The building is still secure? Neo is...?"

Brazen blushed, though that would be hard to notice in the pre-dawn dark of the warehouse. "She's still tied to the table where you left her. Other than that it has been quiet in here." _No need to talk about what Dominic and I did to try to charge their semblance. _"I was thinking of calling the old version of Moonslice 'Black Moonslice', and your new version can be 'White Moonslice'."

"Those names suck. You can't just add 'white' and 'black' in front of each version. White Moonslice needs its own neat name."

"You just called it White Moonslice! It's sticking already!" Brazen argued, knowing he was going to lose the debate but trying anyways for the sake of stubborn pride.

"Nope. No no no. If you give me a minute, I'm certain that I can think of something better. Something less irritating, more poetic." Bedlam grumbled, then under his breath whispered "_something Blake would appreciate..._"

"Dominic went out to buy more food, for breakfast. I'm sure he'll get whatever we would."

Bedlam smiled at that. He took a minute to stretch. "Alright, I'll keep watch and you can get some rest, Braze. When Dom gets back I'll go out to check on Blake."

Brazen took the sleeping bag, fluffed it up a bit before laying it under his head, and began to fall quickly into sleep. "Anything else I should know about dealing with Neo, outside of what the scroll transcript said?"

"If you want to piss her off at you: just insult Torchwick. If you don't want to piss her off: keep him out of the conversation. If you feel like pissing her off at Cinder, mention him without insulting him," he responded, a hint of humour in his tone. "She might not know that we've lost control of the local White Fang. So she would probably believe Dom is just another faunus, with his disguise. Like Lichen, she has no reason to suspect that we've been magically tripled. Just have him speak in a lower pitch or something if he needs to talk, otherwise just use signs."

Brazen nodded, filing the information away in his brain in case it was useful later.

"If it matters, I kept track of how long she left me with the cattle-prod strapped to me: two hours while she beat me with the umbrella, seven hours after I smelled through her illusion. I'm not sure how long she had me upside-down for. I told her my task is finding Blake, so you'll have to reason out of that being your task if you want to convince her that you're more interested in Cinder all of a sudden. She saw my wounded finger, so wear gloves or figure out an explanation for that. Maybe she'll believe that we regenerate? The last thing I told her before I left the room to wait for you guys was a threat to behave so that I would not have to use the cattle-prod on her to see if she could beat my record. Before that, but after I got free, I told her that I would convince my faction that she could be useful to us in tracking down Cinder. Hopefully she assumes that to have meant faunus loyal to our cause despite the fiasco at Haven. Told her that I was not keen to kill her, yet." Bedlam thought for a little bit, his expression eventually seeming content that he had remembered everything pertinent regarding his ex-captor. "Moonbright, by the way. I discovered it, so I get to name it. I want to name it Moonbright."

Brazen nodded, "'s fair, I guess. Good name. Moonslice and Moonbright."

~J~

Brazen stood outside the Product Testing room. Dominic had left after Brazen had woken up; Bedlam had taken off while Brazen had slept, after eating one of the pudding cups and an apple from the foodstuffs Dominic had returned with from a nearby market. He looked at the desk, taking stock of what items he had to work with.

Neo's scroll, of course. It let him see that she continued to lay motionless in the room, still asleep in her underwear. Or dead, but probably asleep.

A score of pudding cups of various flavours, some sweet apples, and a single cold cooked-sausage. He hadn't known what to make of the last bit when he first saw it. Dominic had already left at that point, so he had wondered if it had been a masturbation joke; then he realized the sausage was for Neo. Maybe it was Dom's way of saying that is the only meat-pole that Brazen should be shoving in her mouth today? What a prude. Probably good advice, though.

Neo's stuff, which included her purse (a mess, but he had found a few more condoms stashed within), a familiar black bowler hat with a red ribbon tied around it – Roman Torchwick's signature _chapeau_, the pile of energy bars she had been eating from, the audio equipment connected to the speakers in the padded room, Neo's bladed reinforced-parasol that he had quickly determined how to operate, a collection of necklaces and the rest of her clothes that Bedlam had not bothered to put back on the human.

His stuff: the clothes Bedlam had allowed to get torn to shreds, his weapons, his wallet. Bedlam had taken back his original clothes, leaving Brazen with the rags. _Why would I need them? I'm stuck inside until I convince Neo to work with me in such a way that does not expose our relic-based secrets to the human criminal._

Brazen decided that rather than hesitating outside Neo's prison, he would check out the other rooms. It gave him time to solidify his confidence in his plan: _intimidate her, then feed her. Appeal to her sense of reason once being fed calms her down; convince her that together we have a better chance of not only finding Cinder, but overpowering her once we do. Cinder cost me my authority, the White Fang I've spent a decade rising through. Neo lost Torchwick, her... boyfriend? Father? They had a working relationship of some sort,_ Brazen thought. It wasn't a priority, but he did want to find out what they had meant to one another.

Cinder had used both of them: him for control of the faunus revolutionaries in Vale, Neo and Torchwick for control of the Kingdom's criminal elements. Brazen just had to make Neo agree that their interests aligned enough to warrant working together in seeking justice for what Cinder had cost each of them.

Worst-case scenario, where Neo refused to cooperate, he still had her tied up on a table.

Wearing nothing but a bra and underwear. Completely at his mercy.

If he was not able to get her to help him find Cinder, to find answers about the relic and the source of Cinder's strange abilities, then at least Neo could help him answer a few questions that had arisen concerning his semblance's potential. If it worked like Bedlam had implied, maybe his semblance could even coerce her to ignore her revulsion at his inhuman nature. If it reflects pleasure at the target, then maybe he could appeal to the hedonist in her. He was certain that deep down the girl was a hedonist: it was just a matter of how _deep_ he would have to reach to find it in her.

With that perverted thought forming images in his mind, he entered the room and saw Neopolitan for the first time outside of a hand-sized screen. Her mismatched eyes fluttered open, her head turning towards the sound of his entrance so that she could squint hatefully at him.

_It's a good thing the screen resolution on her camera is so poor, otherwise I don't think I would have been able to hold myself back when Dominic and I were trying to self-charge Moonbright. Bedlam would have smelled something amiss, for sure._ Neopolitan was beautiful; the scroll live-feed didn't do her justice. A petite body with ample curves, particularly those barely restrained by the bra that wrapped over her bosom. Rosy-red cheeks. The rheum of her restless repose that crusted in the corners of her eyes did little to negate their lustre. _Screw symmetry,_ Brazen thought, _it's overrated anyways._ He appreciated her eyes. She may be human, but she clearly hadn't fit into the social norms.

She coughed, and his mind snapped back to the task for which he had ventured into the room. _Right_, he scolded himself, _stick to the plan._

Brazen moved up to the table and looked down menacingly at her. He placed an apple, a pudding cup, and the sausage parallel to her midsection on the table. She watched and instinctively licked her lip at the sight of food.

"I had a quick nap. Sorry about that, I've just had trouble sleeping for a few days." Brazen uttered darkly, working at creating an intimidating atmosphere, "how are you feeling?"

No response, but her eyes darted between his face and the food beside her that she was prevented from reaching for.

"Have you considered my offer? Of working together to find Cinder?" Brazen turned around, walking calmly around the table, examining the padding on the walls. It made his voice sound different: sharper. There was no echo in the room, so his words didn't resonate. She only had one chance to hear them. He touched the wall, feeling the texture of the foam. Neopolitan remained silent.

"No?" Brazen said, turning around while slowly drawing Wilt. He stepped back towards Neo where she lay on the table while admiring the keen edge of his blade. "Well, if that is how you feel, it makes me sad. It's fine, though."

He raised the sword up, and she shook her head desperately while her mouth clamped shut – she must have wanted to not die screaming, he surmised.

"I have a plan for that, too." He brought the sword down in a swipe too quick for even his eye to follow and she shut her eyes in fear. His faunus senses detected that if her panties were not already a wreck, she would have wanted to change them after his demonstration. The sword bisected the apple cleanly through its core, so perfectly that the halves remained standing upright until he pulled the blade back up.

Neo's breath hitched and, after several long seconds, she opened her eyes again upon realizing that the blade had not cleaved through her. Brazen moved around the table and made another quick cut, which this time Neopolitan watched, turning the apple into four quarters. With the blade, he impaled one slice and moved it with the tip of his sword to hover over Neo's mouth.

"Are you hungry, Neo?" His eyes trailed down from her eyes to her midsection, where he saw the long, thin cattle-prod that Bedlam had shoved down through her cleavage into her sex. _So that's where the cattle-prod Bedlam mentioned got to___.___.._ He didn't hear the tell-tale jolting zaps, nor did the room smell like flesh getting burned, so at least Bedlam had not put the device into her crotch while it was active. Neo opened her mouth and lifted her head up hesitantly towards the apple slice, probably suspecting it to be a cruel ploy wherein he would pull it away as she neared it to make her feel her hunger more acutely. He did no such thing, and she devoured the fruit as it entered her mouth. Sweet juice mixed with drool and dribbled down one side of her face. Once she had finished chewing, he offered her each of the other three quarters in turn until the apple had been consumed. She smiled pleasantly at him.

_Progress_, Brazen thought. _I gave her a bit of a scare, now she's feeling better having been given something to eat._ "So,-" he began, intent on making an appeal to her sense of reason.

_Ptoo! Ptoo!_

Neopolitan spat the apple's seeds at his face, her little mouth transforming into a veritable cannon as the little brown pellets shot forth at him. So surprised was he at the attack that three hit him in his bare chest before he had the sense to propel himself out of her range.

"Alright, if that's how you want to do this. You're going to answer some questions. Who knows that you're in Mistral? What happened to Torchwick in Vale? What was your relationship with Torchwick? What do you know about Cinder? Why did you attack me while I was watching Blake?"

No response. He moved back towards her, and she spat another seed at him. He caught it with one hand while sheathing Wilt with the other. With both hands he grabbed the smooth skin of her face and forced her mouth open. His keen faunus eyes peered into her mouth, inspecting it for any remaining seeds but seeing only her white teeth. "That's enough of _that_. No more apples for you. We'll have to feed you something without seed until you're more cooperative." He picked up a cup of vanilla-flavoured pudding, before repeating his questions; "Who knows you're here? What have you learned about Cinder? Why did you attack me?"

Still no response. He began to suspect that her silence was some sort of anti-interrogation technique that Torchwick had instructed her in, so as to not jeopardize his operations should his... _whatever she was to him_... get apprehended by the authorities.

"Ah, but what is this? It seems I don't have any utensils to feed you this with," _a lie_; a bundle of plastic forks had been procured by Dominic along with the food to enable the easy consumption of the puddings, but Neo didn't have to know that and Brazen mind had already devised an innovative means of overcoming the fake obstacle to his prisoner's nutrition.

Neo opened her mouth wider, indicating that she wanted him to just pour it into her mouth directly from the plastic container, as if it were a squeezable tube. He certainly could do that, but what fun would that be?

"Oh, you think I could just dump all this sweet, thick white cream in your mouth?" Brazen held the pudding cup over her face. The strong smell of vanilla emanating from the opened container, combined with the vaguely lewd subtext, made her drool slightly more than before, "but despite what you think, I am not some sort of savage. I am a _civil_ civil rights activist, and think it appropriate to eat in a dignified fashion." He pulled the pudding cup away slightly, causing her to whimper softly as her belly rumbled in protest.

"Ah, not to fear, there's a proper bit right here!" Brazen reached to her chest above her cleavage, his hand finding purchase on the handle of the cattle-prod wedged between her breasts and yanked it out with a sudden tug; she winced as he did and gritted her teeth while letting out a wheeze of distress. Brazen made an exaggerated hum as he looked at the tip of it, "seems to me it's already been used to dip into some pudding." He suddenly stuck the prod into Neo's mouth, manoeuvring it with precision past her parted, trembling lips against her teeth. He instructed her to "clean it off so you can use it to eat your pudding. Unless you would rather I just... press this button, here?" He indicated the power switch, while turning the dial to its lowest setting. If he turned on the power, it would sting sharply. More power and it would begin to sear the tender flesh inside her mouth. He assumed that she knew that, since it was her implement.

Neo blenched a bit and her feet did a series of weak and rapid stomps against the table as the invasive utensil inundated her sense of taste with the flavour of her own stale arousal that must have superseded the lingering sweetness of the apple, but she got ahold of herself and complied with his order when she saw his finger drifting slowly closer towards the power switch.

Grimacing, she wrapped her lips around the metal shaft and began to gently suckle it until it was clean. _Well, clean-er at least._

"See, that wasn't so bad. It's easy to cooperate with me, Neo. If you cooperate with me, you can have your shot at Cinder. It will just be on my terms. Cinder can't die right away. We need her alive." Brazen pulled it out of her mouth and dipped it into the pudding cup, bringing a taste of the vanilla pudding to his captive. She eagerly cleaned off the shaft again. It would take him a while to feed her like this, since the thin prongs couldn't hold much pudding at a time on its tines, but that was fine. He had all day to hang out with his latest acquisition while his brothers hogged their remaining clothes. He had all day to familiarize himself with her and to make her learn to trust him.

"So it just so happens that we both have an interest in finding out where, after Haven, Cinder managed to _get herself off to_," Brazen said while Neo slurped at another serving. The hand not holding the cattle-prod raced down to hover closely over the front of her panties. His faunus senses had already informed him all he needed to know about what he would feel there, but it was still exciting to feel the heat of her overteased sex wafting up to his outstretched hand. Addressing her desire, he whispered softly, "or maybe you just want to _get yourself off, too_."

Neo made a low groan as his attention strayed from the act of feeding her pudding, or maybe she just didn't appreciate the clever wordplay.

"You could work for me. There's no reason that we cannot pool our resources to find her. I need to know more about what she wanted from Beacon Academy." Brazen stated, then continued in a whisper, "I'll tell you a secret: I followed her literal trail of destruction during the attack, and it led me to a large chamber under the school where she had fought the headmaster. The headmaster was under the school, during the attack. The most powerful huntsman in Vale. He was guarding something, and I need to know what was so precious that he would forgo his responsibility to his students, to his Kingdom. Whatever it is, that's what Cinder wanted, what all her effort was directed towards."

"You want Cinder to pay for getting Roman killed, and I can respect that. Revenge is something I'm... well-acquainted with. Some would say that I've dabbled in its pursuit more than most. I've learned that you can't let it cloud your senses, though, lest you get caught in your own trap." He poked one of the restraints holding Neopolitan's arm. "Rather than killing Cinder for what she took from you, wouldn't you rather know why she took him from you, first? Once you get that you can get your revenge at your leisure."

He gave her a moment to consider the offer, the rationality of it all.

"So, what do you think? Want to join me to deal with Cinder?"

Neo suckled on the pudding-laden tines, but said nothing. Brazen stood up and walked out of the room, returning in short order holding the bowler hat.

"Roman was the finest human thief in Vale," he said. Neo looked like she might be about to say something to contest the application of a species-based condition on that statement; certainly she felt that Roman had been the best thief in Vale, period. _Bedlam was right, Torchwick is her biggest button_. She managed to hold her tongue, and stayed silent still despite her obvious desire to argue about her flamboyant associate's prestige. "Don't you think you would honour his memory more by stealing the object of Cinder's desire, that propelled her to bring Vale to ruin, than by simply slaying her?"

His words seemed to have the desired effect on Neo. Her eyes softened and lingered on the hat that he held in his hands. He moved forward and placed the hat over her goosebump-covered belly-button.

"I'm not sure what you and Torchwick were to one another, but as far as I know you seem to be the closest thing he has to a legacy now," he said, "unless any of his other friends came with you to Mistral?"

Neo still didn't talk, and now she just looked sadly at the hat on her stomach. Brazen came to stand in front of where her head lay at the edge of the table, taking a long look at her throat. The slight beginnings of bruises were visible from where Bedlam had grasped her during his escape, adding a touch of colour to her otherwise flawless pale skin.

"We've not really gotten off to a great start. I'm concerned that might be clouding your judgment, prejudicing you against my offer. This whole business of dragging me here, ruining my clothes, and so forth... you could have just talked to me, first."

Neo shook her head from side to side.

_Probably true; we would have just seen her as a bounty hunter, hungry to cash us in for the government's prize lien._ Oddly enough, by doing things this way rather than politely approaching him as an ally, she had pretty much ensured her survival by demonstrating her capabilities. _Just like Cinder... I'm starting to think my most recent female relationships are subscribing to an alarming trend, as far as introductions are concerned._

If he was making a profile on a dating site, he imagined his interests would be: faunus rights, justice upon those who have wronged me, strong female leads threatening me with violence, and long walks in the forest.

"Well, if that is not the reason for refusing me, then why? You're not in much position to negotiate."

Despite her body trembling in fear, Neo managed to smile deviously up at him.

"The fact of the matter is that you need me, if you want to get what you came to Mistral for. The question now is 'do I need you'." Brazen walked back around to sit on the table. He impaled the sausage on the tines of the cattle-prod, and held it in front of her mouth. "You're not used to working on your own and probably couldn't handle Cinder in a straight-up fight. You'd just be throwing your life away." Her smile turned into a hard stare; maybe she had accepted that, but was ready to try anyways? He thought about the warehouse, how she had been eating garbage. Maybe she literally had nothing left but the thought of killing Cinder, getting revenge for the death of Torchwick.

A clean slate, more or less. If there was one thing that Adam Taurus was good at, it was convincing others that they should live (and possibly die) for his vision for the future. Well, that and putting his sword in people.

"I might not know where she is right now, but I've got some leads on tracking down Cinder. I would let you have access to Cinder when I find her if we can come to some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement." Neo seemed to be in deep thought. She certainly wasn't talking, or bargaining for her life like he had expected her to be doing. _Clearly, she's made of sterner stuff. I hate to admit it, but I'm impressed. It takes guts to remain so stoically silent in the face of peril such as she might see herself as being in now. My reputation for dealing with human captives, if she worked with Torchwick or saw the news report about those SDC executives we took hostage two years ago, would make most humans have little hope for survival here. Most people in her position would be running their mouth as fast as possible in the hopes of saving their own skin._ Score one point for Torchwick; for all his many, many, many faults, he had at least created a worthy creature in Neopolitan.

He idly wondered how long a will like hers would have lasted, how long the White Fang headquarters would have been secret had she been captured by Mistral's authorities. He suspected that Ghira and his human allies would still be trying to find the enclave a month afterwards, the possibility that Adam Taurus was rebuilding his strength in the stronghold eating away at them.

"I could have killed you, but that's not what I'm about despite what the human media would tell you. I'm not sure if you heard about my vision for the White Fang, for my people. I don't need humans to fear the faunus. I'm offering a new alternative. You don't have to be afraid of me, Neo." She opened her eyes, which focused on the sausage hanging in front of her. She bit her lip, salivating more at the sight of it, her body still visibly trembling while she kept silent.

"I believe that humans should serve the faunus. We're the superior species, but that doesn't mean I'm automatically against coexistence. I believe that even humans have something to offer the world." He rose to his feet, moving back to the edge of the table by her head. "So, Neo. What do you have to offer me? Can you help me get what I need? Do you know what it is that I need?"

Neo nodded, slowly at first but picking up pace. Suddenly she stopped nodding and reached forward for the sausage, wrapping her lips around the meat but not biting in with her teeth. Instead, she sucked on it, drawing out its succulent juices before running her tongue around its periphery. Her head began to shimmer pink and Brazen witnessed her use her semblance. Suddenly her eyes were radiant amber, her hair black as the darkness of a mineshaft. However, for whatever reason, the illusion began to shred itself, making the disguise flicker and become slightly transparent. Neo's aura must be low, or her mind unable to concentrate on her ability. He took out her scroll to check.

"I certainly don't need any more of that face," he said tersely, "after some introspection, I've decided to have someone else deal with Blake for the time being in my stead, someone I trust to see the task dealt with as well as I would be able to. I've decided to move on from that train-wreck of a relationship and focus on the bigger picture. " Her façade cracked and shattered, her Blake disguise dispelled. The particles of her aura dispersed into nothingness. He preferred her without the disguise anyway.

She saw her scroll and tried to reach for it, though her hands were stymied by her bindings.

"Oh, you want your scroll, eh?" He said in a faux-cheerful tone, then growled "yeah, right. I give you this, and you'll be unleashing yourself or calling your human authorities down on this warehouse. No, I think I'll hang on to this for the time being. Until you can offer me something tangible, something cooperative." Her scroll registered her aura, and he was concerned but not surprised that it was completely depleted. _Why would her aura be so low? Has she been using her semblance in here that much?_ He put the scroll back into his pocket and used his now-empty hand to feel her shoulder. It was solid: certainly no illusion. He could feel the texture of her cold skin against his. His sense of smell certainly confirmed that she was _there_, too.

It also confirmed that Bedlam was not alone in needing to find a shower in the near future. She reeked of arousal and stress.

Was he just being paranoid? Had he fallen for one of her illusions somehow? Was that why she was so confidently resisting his questioning? He tested the restraints. They were solid, too. _She's just messing with you, Brazen_, he chided, _trying to get in my head_. He refused to let it work. She was his prisoner, securely fastened to the table. He knew that was a fact.

He surmised that he may have reached an impasse in his plan: she was not responding at all, outside of a few grunts and whimpers, body language that demonstrated her anxiety.

Thankfully, he had planned for his plan to fail. "_Worst-case scenario, at least Neo could help me answer a few questions that had arisen concerning my semblance's potential._" He had scared her. Fed her. Reasoned with her. None of it had worked; she still refused to accept that they could work as a team to hunt down Cinder.

Brazen tried to convince himself that he had no choice left now but to use Neo to test out Moonbright. _It's not like I just want to try it because of the way her lips are clinging to the meat of the sausage, the way her chest is heaving rhythmically as she breathes, the smell of her wetness permeating the room's air._

Maybe he gave up on trying to convince her with traditional means too soon, but who was there to judge him for it?

"You might not be able to provide me with anything I need right now, Neo, but perhaps there's only one thing I _want_ right now."

He brought his hand to unzip his pants and pulled a plastic-wrapped condom from his pocket which he had acquired while preparing for his encounter – stolen from Neo's cluttered purse. His turgid manhood flopped down onto her forehead. The sausage was released from her mouth as she bent her neck to study the new arrival, her binary eyes going crossed to look at it.

"So the question becomes: 'what do you want? Do you want revenge? Do you want to _serve the faunus_?" He asked, turning the idea that had brought the White Fang stampeding to his banner into something salacious. Suddenly he was glad that the camera didn't have a playback function. Dominic probably would have taken umbrage at his slight _heresy_. Bedlam's indignation would be equal, but for separate reasons.

Neo squirmed around and lunged her tongue at him as best as her bondage allowed her to, but he – with great personal control – pulled back to keep his cock out of reach of her mouth. She pulled back and looked up at him, confused by the retraction, while her body continued to tremble weakly.

"What you did yesterday," Brazen said while demonstrating his inexperience with putting on a condom, "intrigues me."

Neo shrugged, as if to say '_that's just how I am, I guess_'. Or perhaps she was insulting his virginity.

"Not that part. What happened at the end. That's never happened for me before."

She choked a bit, then his captive began laughing, or at least, appeared like she was laughing. She didn't really vocalize the chuckles.

"What's so funny?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head while her face was still full of mirth at his expense.

_Oh, she took that as a sexual performance comment. "_Come on, Neo. We both know I'm a virgin. My_ semblance_ has never done that before. Normally, it turns everything black and reflects stored up energy back at my foes after I absorb it with my sword, Wilt." Brazen explained, "but yesterday, you took a charge directly – as far as I can tell, since I had the hood on at that point – to your face, or throat, or whatever was there at the time. I thought it had killed you, but the energy build-up phase was white rather than black... and this would all be a lot easier if you would contribute what you saw from your perspective to the conversation."

Her dedicated silence was becoming aggravating, now.

"I don't think I absorbed energy, in fact I don't think I've _ever_ been absorbing energy like I thought I did with my semblance. I think I have consciously been using my semblance to absorb pain. So if I didn't absorb pain, I think I absorbed _pleasure_ instead through the condom and sent it back to you," he said, looking at her meaningfully, hoping for a single word. "Can you just tell me what it did to you when it went off?"

Neo looked annoyed, and shook her head in defiance of his simple request.

"Just fucking tell me what you felt!" he exclaimed, momentarily losing himself to anger.

Her face flushed a darker red, scarcely noticeable over the blush that had already covered her face since he had first walked in to see her (probably there since Bedlam had shoved the cattle-prod down her panties). Her brow furrowed in anger, and she mouthed what he assumed was some human profanity at him though she made no sound. It was like she was playing a game with him, and would lose if she uttered a single useful syllable. Maybe if he knew how to read lips he would have understood what cruel words she would have liked to say to him.

"I read lips worse than I can read books, Neo."

She scowled.

"If you don't _tell_ me what happened, we'll have to recreate the situation under which I experienced it previously."

She tugged again at her restraints; apparently she expected to be released. _Hah, nope._

"With a few changes to the seating arrangements, of course. Can't release you just yet," he continued. "So we'll just use your..." now he blushed and felt himself get a bit light-headed as blood flow was redirected elsewhere, "...mouth to um... charge my semblance again. Then I'll just tap you with it and see what it does first-hand. It should do something similar to what you experienced before with it. So if you suffered any ill-effects, best to tell me about them now rather than later."

Her mouth was open only by a sliver, she was mulling over his words and avoiding his gaze by staring at the other side of the room.

"If you had aura, I wouldn't be so worried. At least you might have some chance of negating Moonslice if it is what gets charged and tries to shred your body apart like my semblance has done to so many others in the past. Where is your aura? Have you been playing with your semblance all night or something?" He certainly hadn't seen her doing anything through the camera, but then again she _was_ an illusionist. Her illusions would probably have an easy time fooling the camera she had planted in the room, and she would have known that she could do so.

He poked her mouth with a finger, "don't be like that. I'm fairly certain it won't kill you." His finger got past her lips and tapped against her teeth. "Of course, if it were to kill you, you may as well tell me now what you'd like to be done with your remains and such." _Morbid_, he thought, _but maybe it would get a peep out of her._ "Any family or friends in town I should send them along to?"

No such luck. She continued to stonewall his efforts to elicit a dialogue.

"What have you got to lose? If you don't speak, and you don't help me understand what happened to my semblance, then what use do I have for you?" He wished that he had worn his mask for this: his eye may have betrayed his bluff, if his tone hadn't already. Despite his aggressive approach, the sad fact of it all was that he really did desire Neopolitan's help in finding Cinder. He may have leads on how to find his quarry, but as the most-wanted faunus in Mistral, he found himself hard-pressed to act on those leads without bringing down a host of eager bounty-hunters, huntsmen, and the rank-and-file military authorities on his head. Neo may not know it, but after having all morning to think it through the illusionist was becoming central to his upcoming scheme to integrate himself into Mistral's criminal information networks without exposing himself to his myriad enemies.

Also he had nearly climaxed touching himself while watching her nubile body on her scroll scant hours prior. Combine that with the attraction to her he had immediately felt upon seeing her (and continued labouring to deny to himself), and he found himself in no position to mean any of the threats he implied to his captive.

He needed Cinder, because who else in Mistral might know anything about relics and magic? Nobody that he knew of, especially with Lionheart dead. Without Cinder, he'd have to go to Salem for answers and Salem was clearly the reason why Lionheart was dead. Not trustworthy at all, as far as allies went, but at least she seemed to hate humans so that was a bit of a plus. Even so, he would prefer to work with Cinder; to find Cinder, he would need Neo's help. Not that he was about to admit that to her now.

Just as he was beginning to compile reasons why going with Hazel to meet his master wouldn't be too abhorrent, Neo timidly opened her mouth. She wasn't talking, but despite that (or maybe because of that) Brazen took the motion to signify consent to his experiment.

_Too bad, Salem_, Brazen crowed, _Cinder's still on the table!_

Or, at least, Neo was.

He slowly brought his latex-covered tip up to her open lip and watched as she lapped at it with her round pink tongue. Once her tongue connected she seemed to visibly relax; she extended her tongue as far as she was able and her mouth yawned wider.

"They say that good help is hard to find..."

He inserted himself further in, the crown of his head being taken in its entirety now past the teeth which no longer barricaded the orifice.

"...but I disagree. I think you and I can be great friends, wouldn't you say, Neo?"

She gave a bit of a hum that resonated pleasantly from her throat through his dick, which he took as affirmation of what he said. He put himself deeper, then deeper still into her until he felt himself hit against the back of her mouth, making her sputter around his girth. He felt her tongue wrapping around him inside, and revelled in the sight.

He felt nothing, or so little that it may as well be nothing. _I hope this is my semblance, otherwise I don't get what the big deal about sex is._ Jacking himself off while watching Dom mirror his actions had felt better than this; the lack of sensation must be his semblance absorbing the pleasure. He looked at his scroll, his attention drawn away from Neo as he focused on the tell-tale drain on his aura as his semblance nibbled at his reserves to turn him into a living battery.

His aura wavered on the screen, then went to 99%. He felt it, since he was focused on it: he felt the energy getting stored in his soul like a battery. Neo began roughly poking at his member in her mouth with her tongue, almost like she was trying to do a reverse tug-of-war with it. Pushing against it, rather than trying to draw it in. Testing how much it wanted to stay in her warm orifice, trying to see if she could reclaim her mouth from his invasion. He looked down at her panties; more so than the rest of her, moist from her experiences over the past day. Her glistening skin, sleek with sweat. Her arms as they strained against the restraints. He liked the sound that her mouth was making against him, now. Like a wheezing choke, interrupted with slobbering gasps while a clear liquid made a rivulet from her flared nostrils down the side of her face.

He put his scroll away and looked at her sideways face. Her brown eye was wide open, her face flushed. She inhaled a ragged breath noisily through her nose as he pulled back a little to let her breathe: his inexperience made him uncertain how far to keep himself inside of her, and he was worried about asphyxiating her with his dick before the test was completed.

_I'm not sure what I was worried about earlier. This is fine. My semblance will endear me to her, my ability to help her take down Cinder will appeal to her; together we will form a strong partnership._ Even after Cinder is dealt with, he could certainly use someone with Neo's talents at his side. He looked up at the ceiling light; _Dom doesn't want her, Bedlam hates her, she is all mine._

The beginning of a new relationship. Proof of concept that his ideals were rooted in fact, that humans could be taught to live under faunus as nature intended. _Indeed, a very-nearly perfect moment_, Brazen thought to himself as he basked in the light of the moment, relishing the gasps from her mouth and the rattle of her arms against her bindings.

Then, her mountingly panicked attempts to warn him failing, she sneezed, her teeth snapping down with reflexive force on his member.

~J~

**DOMINIC**

Dominic put his hat on and walked out of the warehouse. The street was alive with occasional large cargo trucks and folks on their way to work. The sun's early light was blocked out by the mountain city, but it was still bright enough for humans to see without street lights. He grabbed a ride on a tram and lost himself in his relief that Bedlam was safe; before he knew it he was back in the faunus district. A short walk later he was at Lichen's door. He walked in.

"Lichen? You around? It's Dom." No response, but he heard movement from Salt's room. "Salt? You home?"

Salt emerged from her room, wearing an over-sized t-shirt and tomboyish shorts, eyeing him with caution.

"Where's your mom?"

Salt sneered a little, "she went to go deal with your little runaway. Since Kuchinashi is safe again, there's a caravan of the people who fled from the town heading back that way. Mom's taken Rothy to make sure she gets back to Kuchinashi with them. So you don't have to worry about her, anymore."

Dom smiled, "that's good news. I am glad that she'll be reunited with her family. Her family did live through the attack, right? She mentioned on the train that her father was part of the town militia."

"The army had a message for her from her mother, so at least her mom's alive." Salt looked away, "I'm not sure about her dad, though." _Salt probably doesn't care much about the dad, though not for the same reasons as me. She's probably thinking that growing up without a dad is just par for the course; I'm more concerned with the father's human-ness_. "So what're you wanting mom for?"

"I have some nice news of my own," Dom began, "my business in Mistral is pretty close to being done, and I've gotten to the point where I don't need to stick around here anymore. I'd go up to get my stuff, but I think I've got it all." He let the joke hang in the air for a moment, unappreciated. "Pass word along to Lichen that we're square, and that she won't have to worry about me being seen around here anymore. The police will have nothing to connect us from here on out."

"You can tell your brother that my mom'll be happy to hear that she'll not have to put up with the stress of keeping him hidden anymore," Salt said, "you should think about severing your ties to him, too, as soon as you can. He's an anchor, weighing down anyone he's attached to. You're better than him, Dom. You showed that when you helped out Rothy for no reason other than wanting to protect her."

"Mind your tongue, Salt," Dominic warned, though his stance remained relaxed.

"Are you really going to just follow him, like a stray dog, just because he's your brother? Sort of plays into the herd mentality stereotype there, which I thought you'd be a bit more aware of since-"

Dominic's stance shifted, his arm reaching around to brush against Blush where it was tied to his back under his disguise.

Salt gulped, loudly.

"I'm not following him. We're living our lives for ourselves, and it just so happens that our goals compliment one another. Helping Rothy was incidental to my mission. I will help faunus when I can, but it is more important that humans be taught their place."

"You shouldn't have tried to convince poor Rothy that she is better than humans just for being faunus. She should think she can be a better person by helping civilization, not because she is entitled to it by birth. When I was cleaning her off in the tub she told me that you told her she was better than all her schoolmates. You should give Ghira Belladonna's ideology more credit. I've been listening to his speeches and the message he is making is helping people more than your brother's ever did. Shops and theatres are letting faunus in, segregation policies are being rewritten to include everyone equally, schools will be based on where we live rather than how well we see in the dark... Ghira is uniting the people of Mistral like never before and-"

"Against me!" Dominic said, then corrected, "against my brother and I! Belladonna is not the saint you think he is. He is not the hero he is making himself appear to be. He is just a coward, afraid to get his hands dirty. When the White Fang became militant, he was all too happy to fade into the crowd in Menagerie and let others do what had to be done! Who do you think turned Adam Taurus into a weapon? Do you think it was the SDC?"

"You sound... just like your brother. I heard people around the neighbourhood talking, before and after the humans assassinated Khan. Talking about the message Adam was spreading. Nothing but spite and hate. You'll see, Dom. Adam's path is going to lead you both to ruin. Why ride it with him? You're not him. You can go to Ghira, get good terms for Adam, live productive lives in Menagerie."

"In Ghira's custody?" Dom spat out, spittle flying as his mouth frothed a bit from his growing fury; "Adam Taurus lived for years as property, a slave. You've seen Adam's face. You know what they did to me. You know what they did to you, too. Your mother had to give birth to you in a forest because of human cruelty. She could have died out there, in Ghira's arms. Not going to trade being shackled by the Schnees and other humans for being kept by Ghira or anyone else, doesn't matter who is holding the other end of the chain. I'll be the one holding the chain, now. Don't worry, Salt. We have nothing but respect for good faunus like you and your mom, who know that what is best is to sit back and let us save them from humanity. I _will_ save you."

Salt shook her head slowly. "It's clear there's no point in trying to reason with you. Go on, then. Get out of here. Hopefully I won't see you on the evening news. When I'm old enough, I'll join the new White Fang and help people. We'll make a better world."

"Good luck, Salt." Dominic said, making his way back to the front door. "Have a good life."

He left Lichen's house, his mind a tumult from the argument. _Fuck her, what does she know about life? This faunus ghetto might not be the nicest place to live, but it is still high above the SDC's accommodations in the mines. She's never known the real struggle our people face, never had to break our people out of cages. The moment Ghira leaves, the moment the humans get my head on a pike, the moment they feel safe and dominant again, the humans will turn on the faunus once more. Inclusion will revert to segregation, then turn to slavery._

As he walked he eventually calmed down a bit, enough to remember that he still had to find clothes for Bedlam. He suddenly wished he hadn't had the argument with Salt. She probably would have been able to help him pick out clothes like Blake used to.

On the other hand, the less time he gave her to ask why he wore the eyepatch, the better. His disguise was paramount, afterall, and who in the world would believe that long-lost twins would have identical facial scars? He'd have to figure out a cover story for that in advance. _It's not like I could say I did it as a show of solidarity... nobody in their right mind would do that._ He cursed the SDC. For all the blessings the power of the relic bestowed upon him, the brand would always harry his designs. It was a shame that they had closed the borders and recalled their forces: he would love to find some Atlesian humans to vent his frustrations out on. _Maybe I could pretend that I hide the eye so that nobody knows which is the 'real' Adam... that could work unless someone sees the identical branding._

In haste, he purchased a tidy looking pair of pants, a shirt and a hooded vest; he made sure that all had been manufactured in Menagerie, though that meant paying triple the price of anything made locally in the sweatshops. The human clerks paid him a bit of attention, but were too lazy to actually approach him while he shopped through the store. They took his lien when he approached the register without making any extra conversation. Just another eccentric huntsman-type, buying fancy clothes, nothing suspicious here...

He visited the docks and ascertained that there was still no signal from the incoming ship; it was still beyond the limited communications network relied upon since the fall of the Beacon CCT. He felt his semblance charging, the strange sensation of somebody else using his soul's unique power combined with that power being used in a novel way. Brazen must have finally replicated Bedlam's discovery of Moonbright.

Disconcerting, to say the least, but preferable to inexplicable aura depletion.

_It's odd_, Dominic considered as he walked through the dirty, crowded streets of the undercity. Perpetual rain and industrial smog kept anyone from spending any effort trying to pierce his cunning disguise. _With the CCT out of commission until who-knows-when, my split soul is one of the most reliable means of long-distance communication_. He made a mental note to discuss that with his clones later, to see if they could figure out a way to take advantage of that so that they could keep one another apprised of progress even after going their separate ways.

_Who knows_, he thought, _once humanity has been subjugated and the faunus have no more need for me to fill the role as saviour, I'll need to give my brothers something to do. Unless they choose to rejoin me so that all of us can rule this world as one Adam. If that doesn't happen, I can have them work in communications since I'm not sure anyone actually knows how the CCT worked in the first place. If anyone knew, they're probably dead now._ His clones could be governors of the new world, exerting his will from a distance via their shared soul somehow.

Halfway back to the warehouse, Dominic wondered if he should have tried the clothes on before buying them. _Nah_, he reckoned, _the tag says __they're the same size as my current clothes, and having to get undressed to put these on would just put me at risk of having my identity exposed._ He had the receipt; if he needed to he could always return them later.

Or, if Brazen turned Neo, they could have her do it in order to reduce the chances of themselves being spotted on the streets. What were the odds that the days in Mistral would always be rainy and smoggy? He hummed to himself, seeing Bedlam's good sense in keeping Neo alive. Like Rothy, she would just need to be taught the natural order.

Faunus first.

~J~

**BRAZEN**

With mucous sprayed all over his groin, Brazen realized two things.

First, despite having not killed her, Bedlam had left the human on a cold metal table for hours, soaking wet, in a building that was certainly less than what most would consider to be 'warm'. Sure, it was a picture of luxury for SDC faunus employees (at least she hadn't had to scrounge for her daily quota while wet, cold, and miserable!), but for a weak human it was a ticket to getting sick.

Second, she had just involuntarily bit his dick about as hard as her body could muster given her enfeebled state. If he hadn't consciously been putting his aura into the area to maximize the energy absorption, she probably would have dug right into the flesh with her pearly-white chompers to deal devastating harm. Even with the protection of his aura, he still shouted out a string of expletives as he staggered backwards before falling into the soft wall and sliding down to the floor to curl up in a ball.

The condom bore several tears, now, and would have to be replaced if he wanted to try to charge Moonbright any further. In his wisdom, he decided that he did not. _At least I was able to demonstrate that my semblance can absorb energy from another person in this way._

After a minute, the shock went away and he stood up and returned to stare down at Neo.

"I suppose I deserved that," Brazen said, smearing the girl's snotty mucous around on his belly with one hand as his attempt to wipe it away just led to spreading it around further. Neo's eyes opened back up as she recovered from the sneeze, her trembling body – _no_, her shivering body covered in goosebumps. Neo sharply drew in another breath as before; Brazen leapt back to avoid the spray of snot and spit.

Maybe her throat was clogged up from being sick. Maybe that was why she had used the scroll to speak: she had already been beginning to get sick when she caught Bedlam. He hadn't mentioned her sneezing during his captivity, but then maybe he had felt ashamed that he had been so easily captured and contained by a sick human girl.

_Oh, I'm going to have a laugh at his expense for that, later._

"There is the energy stored in my reserves... I could try using it on you, but the condom is busted and I don't know what would happen if I combine Moonbright with the fire-dust in Wilt. After that bite, I'm not even sure what side of my semblance would be used: pain or pleasure?" _That definitely deserved further investigation, _he thought as he said it. What would pleasure do when combined with fire-dust or, for that matter, any kind of dust? How would he decide what form of his semblance to use, if he absorbed both pain and pleasure together? He imagined fighting a bunch of bounty-hunters who ambushed him while he was having intercourse, only to find that rather than making them hurt his attacks made them keel over in ecstasy. _Hmmm. I've never considered dealing non-lethal damage in a fight before._ Most of the time he would just kill anyone he was fighting, and the fat human SDC executives and bosses he'd taken hostage hadn't fought back – they were not fighters.

"If I go and get another condom from your purse, maybe I can still use it like yesterday. Maybe it will even help you with your... sickness." He left the room and dug through her purse for a replacement. He heard her coughing through the open-door; no longer did she try to hide her infirmity from him in a facade of strength. He went back in, closing the door as he entered. He focused his mind on his semblance while peeling the condom from its wrapping, quickly finding the reserve of energy stored within his soul that seethed for release. He could have just hung onto the energy for later: it would slowly drain his aura to contain it, but years of devoted training and metaphysical meditation had not only increased the amount of energy he was able to store in his semblance's capacity, but also allowed him to withhold discharging it for longer periods of time. It wasn't particularly useful for combat, since starting a fight with aura already having taken a hit was less than desirable, but for stealth missions it had been handy to have it poised for use against stubborn locked doors and the like, without requiring him to noisily absorb energy at the scene. It felt like the metaphysical pool he had dug for Moonslice seemed to work just as well for Moonbright. He walked up to Neo and let his dick rest in her palm, since he wasn't that comfortable putting it anywhere near those teeth again.

Also, if it failed to work as advertised, she could probably live without the hand.

"Alright, here it goes." Neo scrunched up her eyes, preparing for the worst.

The red skin of the apple beamed brightly; the walls of the room were cast red by the glow from his hair. Everything flashed white as he released the energy she had poured into his aura back at her into her palm. Her hand gripped firmly around him, but he barely felt it between his semblance numbing the sensation and his aura shielding him.

As the glow of his semblance faded, he looked down upon his target. Her body was spasming, her hand having released his member as it stretched to fan out her fingers, her legs clenching together tightly, squeezing and rubbing against one another where they met. Her eyes had opened to a half-lidded state, revealing that they had crossed and rolled back in their sockets; her mouth hung open. She was breathing even more quickly than before, and a new glossy stain was being added to the front of her panties while her stomach pushed against the cable wrapped around her midsection as she tried to arc her body off the table. A rumble, almost a purr, came from her throat. Or maybe that was just more snot in her throat, gargling.

_Well, she didn't die_ _and I saw it in action._ The first test had been a success! Bedlam wasn't entirely insane.

"How do you feel?"

No response from Neo, who continued to twitch erratically on the table. A bit of drool escaped from her mouth, dangling from her tongue as it hung out.

"Right. It knocked you out last time, too. I... I guess this is just how it incapacitates you." He walked back out of the room to retrieve the sleeping bag (and to do something other than watch her _very _interesting facial expressions since they did little to relieve his continued erection); he could use that as a blanket for her to warm up.

He tossed the blanket over her, then picked Torchwick's hat up off the ground. It had fallen off her when she had arced her back. He put it over her face and felt content that most elements of his plan had gone as he wanted them to. _Give her the hat as a show of respect or trust. If she loves Torchwick, then giving him a modicum of due respect would probably go a long way towards building something akin to acceptance towards me. _

_It's not like I just think she'd look sexy as hell wearing the hat, Roman Torchwick's hat, while sucking my dick later!_

With every fibre of his being he wanted to see her sucking him off while wearing Roman's hat. Roman's hat, and nothing else. After all the times the man had called his people animals, forgotten their names, insulted them, the image of Neo kneeling before him with the hat on her head would be the ultimate form of payback.

Eschewing such fantasies, he reinforced his resolve to care for his budding new accomplice's health. He went in, grabbed her pants and heeled shoes, and struggled to get them onto her. The pants were sort of crusty, having not dried properly after being soaked. It was a struggle to get them on her semi-conscious body. At least the footwear was easy, though he did not even try to get the socks on. _Are they shoes, or are they boots?_ His mind wondered as he got them on. Once that was done, he tossed the sleeping bag over her, with the zipper completely undone so it was just a flat blanket.

Against the wall there was a bucket with a cloth in it. He took that and headed over to the bathroom, filling the bucket with cold water since the building had no water heater. That would be a problem: cold water wouldn't do his patient any good.

He shoved Wilt into the water and spent a bit of his aura into the fire-dust-enhanced blade. Steam erupted around the blade, splashing against the side of the bucket. He pulled his aura back and felt the water with a finger. _Warmer, now_. Sometimes old dust-mine tricks were still handy: aura plus red dust equals life for the night.

By the time he came back into the testing room, Neo had sort of snapped back to awareness. Enough to see him coming back in with a bucket she had used on Bedlam in a much less benign manner. He put the warm bucket on the table beside her head, dipped the cloth in the warm water and lay it over her forehead, moving the hat back over her belly. Her eyes relaxed as she realized what he was doing and from the nice feeling of the warm cloth draped against her feverish scalp.

"I'm going to keep you restrained for now," he clarified as she meekly jostled one of her arms against the cable, "let's just focus on getting you back to feeling well and then you can tell me what your thoughts on working together are." She bit her bottom lip, _she's hiding something._

He patted the hat on her stomach gently. "Sometimes..." he thought of Blake, how he had been so unwilling to let her simply go, to move on with his own life, how that part of him was now an entirely separate entity slinking through the city streets, "sometimes you have to move on and accept the past. Keep fighting for the future. But it's still good to remember where you came from, to remember what is important to you. Why you fight." He took his mask out from his shirt and donned it, hiding his facial branding from view.

He heard the door of the warehouse open, so he gently put the hat over where the blanket covered her chest and went out to meet the new arrival, drawing Wilt slowly from Blush as he did so. It had been long enough for either of his brothers to return, but despite his name he was not one to entirely be without caution.


	13. Tri-Spy

**BEDLAM**

Just enough to assure himself that she hadn't run away while he had been detained, that's how long he let himself watch Blake before returning back to the new base. His brothers had quickly declared it such, despite his distaste for the building... _I suppose it is really only the single room that has my ire__, though_. Brazen came out of the torture chamber when he returned to the gutted warehouse, which Bedlam also had mixed feelings about. _Neo doesn't matter. All that matters is Blake, so as long as Neo stays out of my business she and Brazen can do whatever they like._

"Still secure here?" Bedlam asked, suddenly suspicious of his clone.

"Yeah, she's sort of sick I think. Until she's over that, I don't think I'll make much progress dealing with her." Brazen sat down beside the desk.

Bedlam narrowed his eyes and smelled the air. "How do I know you're **you** and not one of her illusions? You've got her smell all over you."

"Ilia is attracted to Blake, but I never minded," Brazen responded after taking a few moments to think of something that both of them should know that Neo would not.

Bedlam nodded and moved to sit down beside his twin, "I like this white cloak. Not sure why; it certainly isn't good for hiding in."

"Hiding in plain sight?" conjectured Brazen, "I'm assuming you still don't mind about Ilia."

[We have not had much chance to talk, you and I, since the split], Bedlam motioned, ignoring the tangent about the chameleon-faunus. [Do you think we made a mistake using the relic so quickly?]

"We were sort of in a rushed situation, but I'm not sure that I'm the one to ask about that," Brazen replied, [you did name me impulsive].

Bedlam reached up onto the desk and grabbed an apple, "if we all succeed in our missions, what happens then?" He bit into the apple. [Will we become one?]

Brazen shook his head, [why waste the power?] "This is working out pretty well for us so far."

[If I bring Blake back to my side, which of my sides will she want to be by?]

"I'm not going to get between the two of you. Neither will Dom," Brazen immediately assured him, then with a sly look said "unless you _ask_ us to get in bed with the two of you..."

Bedlam pondered. And thought. And considered slowly the proposition and its possibilities; how did the old saying go? _Two heads are better than one_, or something like that? "...maybe if Blake wanted to try it. Maybe that might convince her to come back to me. Maybe that's what she saw in Wukong and his team of human huntsmen." His face flashed with jealously for a moment. "Damn pretty-boys!"

Brazen held up his middle finger, then signed [kind of helps us against the competition].

Bedlam smiled, Brazen having cheered him up, if only slightly and if only for a brief moment. Blake would see the power they wielded as the bearer of the Relic, had gained from his alliance with Hazel and Cinder's master, Salem, and understand that he had been right all along and, more importantly, fully capable of realizing his dream of liberating their people for all time.

"Dominic should be getting some clothes to replace the ones of mine that you got wrecked," Brazen added as an afterthought.

"I'm terrible at picking out clothes, though. I always relied on Blake to do that sort of thing..."

"How hard could it be to get pants and stuff? I'm sure he'll do fine. On that note, though, can I have my clothes? I'm getting sick of being cooped up in here today, I have some stuff I should go out and do."

Bedlam finished his apple, then stripped out of Brazen's pants, shirt and the disguise. Brazen put on the clothes and handed Bedlam Neo's scroll, "make sure she doesn't die."

Bedlam looked at the image of Neo, now covered up but still tied down to the table. An idea struck him.

"Wait," he said, "what's the range on connection between the camera and the scroll?"

Brazen shrugged as he fiddled with the cloak, "no idea; it probably runs... off..."

"Yeah, if it runs off the city's network-"

"You could just take the camera-"

"Put it somewhere more useful!"

Brazen and Bedlam finished the thought together, grinning.

"It sure is a pain having to hike all the way up the mountain to spy on Blake all the time."

"You think you can get in and out of there without getting caught? I only know what you've told us about it; didn't you say there were guards?"

"They'll be no match for me and my years of experience as a saboteur. I'll get in, plant the camera in the living room, and be out before they're any the wiser."

"I guess if you don't come back Dom and I will at least know where to find you this time."

Bedlam shot him a sour look. _Too soon, Brazen. Too soon._

"I'll test out the connection range of the scroll," Brazen said, so Bedlam tossed his clothed look-alike Neo's scroll. "If it reaches to the bakery on the other side of the neighbourhood, I think it'll be safe to say that it runs off the city grid."

While Brazen went off to do that, Bedlam braved the padded cell to see how much work it would take to move the camera. It wasn't a large thing, but it wasn't small, either. Larger that a scroll. _I could probably stick it under the living room table or something_, he thought. It wouldn't give him much in the way of a video feed, but he would be able to overhear Blake and her new friends.

Neo stirred behind him but he ignored her. She was a useless human, as far as he was concerned, and so long as she remained tied down he was all too happy to pretend that she didn't exist at all.

The device had a dust battery, he discovered as he examined it where Neo had stuck it into the foam wall. She had likely used the stool to get it up there. The dust would power it for weeks, easily, which hopefully should be more than enough time. He did not particularly wish to have to make repeated entries to Blake's guarded house, just to change a dying battery. Once would be dangerous enough as it was with the concentration of hostile fighters there.

"If I go in at night, most of them will be asleep..." he said to himself. "Yes. It will work." He waved at the camera, hoping Brazen was watching, and resolved to come back to grab it later once his theory about its range was confirmed; for now he needed a moment to relax. He spent a bit of time cleaning Blush on the desk: not that he planned to use his rifle much in the city – it would attract undue attention – but the weapon hadn't really enjoyed being brought through the sewer into Mistral, and he had not made time before to clean it out.

Brazen returned, Dominic alongside him. "Guess who I found at the bakery?" they chimed. Brazen tossed Bedlam a warm baguette, split down the middle and slathered with butter.

"I told him about your plan for the camera; it works all the way to the bakery so I think our conjectures were accurate."

"It's a solid idea, if you can pull it off without getting caught," Dominic added. "Unless it is part of your plan to get caught? I don't want to rain on your parade but just because it worked out in our favour this time, I wouldn't deliberately get caught again."

"Yeah, no more getting caught!" Brazen said, whacking Bedlam on the shoulder with his own baguette.

Bedlam rolled his eyes. _These two guys, sheesh! I get caught _one_ time and they act like I'm a total novice._

"Here, clothes for you so that you can run off and do your stealth mission. I'll watch the prisoner while you two are out."

[Where are you going?] Bedlam asked Brazen.

"Ah, nowhere special. I need to grab some basic medicines and stuff for Neo so that she recovers faster. I'll try and set up a meeting with Hazel, too. With trust being what it is between us I'm not sure how that'll go."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just meet him at the airship?"

[Long walk,] Brazen complained with his hands. Dominic and Bedlam accepted that; after all, it was part of the reason for Bedlam's spy-camera operation.

Bedlam took his new clothes out from the bag. Fair-trade, faunus-friendly, sleek black pants and shirt with a frumpy dark robe that would hide his face within its shadow. He'd even gotten a new white blindfold for him: how thoughtful.

Wait, never mind, that was just the lengthy receipt. He might be a terrorist, but the clothing industry was a real villain in Remnant. Just look at all these surcharges and taxes! He knew Mistral was corrupt but this was ridiculous.

_No wonder most people seem to just wear the same clothes each day, changing styles only when the changing season permitted it_. _Even if they aren't living in the woods at a terrorist camp__, nobody sane can afford many outfits._

He wondered if Beacon had provided Blake with her schoolgirl outfit, or if she had had to scrounge lien together to buy it in order to fit in with her humans.

~J~

**NEOPOLITAN**

She had no idea how long she had lain on the table for. She was comfy and warm now, though that hadn't been the case earlier. Adam was occasionally caring for her now, but he was also the one who had neglected her to the point that she had gotten sick! Or maybe she had just caught one of those horrible faunus-diseases Roman had warned her about when she had touched him; she tried to remember the symptoms and names of those but only a few sprung to mind.

Chicken pox? No, she'd had that when she was a kid and Roman said she couldn't get it twice.

Mad cow disease? If she had her scroll she could look the symptoms up on the Net. The name indicated similarity to her plight: she was in the grip of an angry cattle-boy.

Adam had also been the one who shoved the cattle-prod down her pants: just enough to tantalize, not enough to finish the job. Her mood had bounced from one extreme to another for what felt like days: horny, angry, scared, horny again, congested, tired, then slightly hungry, but also horny. When he had finally come back in to tell her that she wouldn't be killed by him and his faunus followers, she had been somewhat delirious. She certainly hadn't been in the clearest state of mind. Presently swaddled in blankets and pillows that he seemed to have bought for her, she tried to think of what she had done when he had come into the room after leaving to have his short nap. _If I get free of this, the first thing I'd do wouldn't be have a nap,_ Neo thought to herself.

He'd wanted her to help him find Cinder. He'd insisted she delay her rightful vengeance upon the woman so that he could torture some answers out of her. _That could be fun_. Neo thought that Cinder deserved a particularly gruesome death for costing her Torchwick, of the life she had scrounged together for herself from society's scraps, from her skills and Torchwick's ingenuity. _I'll take an ice-cream scoop to her eyeballs_, Neo fantasized, _then I'll get creative and mean_.

She had expected Adam to be a bit more sadistic to her as a prisoner, after what she had put him through - see: the cattle prod - and given the stories she had heard about him and his White Fang cronies. Wasn't he the one who had taken seven board-members of the SDC hostage a few years ago, mutilating them one by one until the company had conceded to the ransom demands? Hadn't he personally slaughtered scores of humans across Solitas and Anima before going to Vale? Hadn't he been the one leading the White Fang as they slaughtered the people at Amity and Beacon? Not that she was complaining about being allowed to keep herself intact - it just struck her as out-of-character, or at least contrary to his dark reputation. The only reasonable conclusion she came to was that he was just pretending to have forgiven her so quickly for what she had put him through, which begged the question: _what's his angle?_ He was certainly planning something, but for the time being she couldn't understand what devious plot he was weaving around her. Instead of sore and scared, her captivity had just left her frustrated in a variety of ways.

Of everything that had happened after he'd come back in, what pissed her off the most was that he definitely didn't understand that she was mute; she had assumed at the start that he knew, but by the time his dick had gotten in her mouth it was clear that he just thought she was being stubborn.

Ah, the dick. She remembered – and regretted – biting that when she sneezed. Not her finest moment. It was far worse than even her earliest escort jobs. He hadn't gotten angry, though, like the johns had back in Vale when she had messed up. Lucky for her, because it wasn't like she would have been able to get away from the retribution she had expected afterwards. Torchwick wasn't around to smooth things over for her anymore, wasn't around to get her out of this bind with a wave of his cane. Heck, she couldn't even try to run away.

Adam seemed to have realized she was sick at that point, after she'd bit down on his member. Using his semblance on her made her feel good - an understatement, of course - but not better. Apparently it was not a magical panacea for her illness, so he'd then put some of her clothes back on; he'd gotten her warmed up in a way that didn't involve her hormones. He'd heated up a bucket of water for her with the fire dust in his sword before she'd passed out. Later, though she didn't know how much later, Adam came _back_ in and removed the camera without looking at her - like he had been angry at her, pointedly ignoring her presence. Then he'd come in again later with more blankets, some pillows, and medicine; no longer angry or ignoring her, he'd checked her temperature and fed her a bit more even though her appetite was temperamental. _At least I'd not puked all over his shoes or something really gross, yet_. She'd not had the medicine among her few things, and he'd not had it on him when she had captured him, so he must have gone out and risked getting caught by the authorities just to make sure she got well. She must have slept for longer than she thought, since it would have taken him a while to get the medicine and the pillows.

_It was all rather sweet_, her treacherous thoughts formed a picture of the renegade faunus going out of his way for her sake, buying the soft pillow she snuggled against at such great risk to himself in a city that wanted him dead. She tried to deny such ideas, arguing that he was still an enemy. _He's just using you_, she chided.

_I wish he'd use me more!_ Great. Now the rogue half of her brain had teamed up with her lower-brain. Rationality was getting outnumbered!

_He just wants you for your semblance, nothing more!_ She pleaded to the hormone-addled bits of her body. _We could do so much better than some awful faunus like him, what would Roman think?_

_Roman's dead and would want us to be happy and full-_filled_!_ Came the retort from below, putting special emphasis on the last syllable. Great, now they had puns: her sanity could not handle humour of this magnitude. Neo felt her resolve wavering. Neo felt her reservations about Adam slipping away as the minutes of isolation ticked by.

Maybe he only saw her as useful because of her semblance, but she certainly was enamoured with his just as much! Burying her head up into a pillow he had provided for her, her imagination returned to her earlier fantasy of retiring to Menagerie. Living in the balmy clime with Adam and her big _retirement package_ she'd discovered in his pants – and she didn't mean the wallet. She'd been with a lot of guys over the years, even after she'd unlocked her semblance and started working with Torchwick in his more criminal endeavours, but Adam was possibly the most reciprocal one she'd entertained to date. Maybe it was just his semblance, but then again people did say that a person's semblance was a reflection of their soul.

His semblance was amazing: it felt like her hand had been given a blowjob when he used it on her, though there had been a sharp pain at the end as she climaxed, like a sour aftertaste. If what he had claimed was true, she had felt the sensation, the pleasure, of her entire blowjob reflected back at her.

And while she would never admit it, the final bite hadn't ruined the experience for her: it had sent her over the edge and turned her brain into pudding akin to what he had fed her prior.

Not that it was much of a contest, but still: best orgasm she'd had in months... except the one she'd had while he'd still been tied up as her prisoner, after she'd sucked him off for a longer while. No wonder she hadn't been able to get him to cum, which protected her tarnished pride in her oral skills. He'd cheated the first time, then told her his secret the second time so that she was aware of what was happening. _Which one was better_? Neo wondered, and worried that if the second instance won out it would say something about how she responded to the pain which must have resulted from her bite.

Was she some sort of closet masochist?

In any case, Neo had blacked out after each taste of his reflective semblance. She needed to give his dick a proper apology for biting it, and he had gotten out of his bonds before she could introduce him to the wet snugness of her lower lips, rocking hips, and inner bits. That would surely be the best way to overcome her speech disability and affirm their partnership!

...if it was a partnership. Neo furrowed her brow and thought about it all again. He hadn't ever appeared to be offering her a partnership, had he? He hadn't even been treating her like an equal. He had been treating her like a _pet_. Like an animal, like how she had seen Roman treating the White Fang he had been coerced by Cinder to ally with. While there were certainly worse things to be than the pampered human-pet of a faunus rebel leader, she felt like she could probably do better than _that_ even if her body and mind had decided that she couldn't do better than _him_. She had to uphold Roman's legacy, right? Which probably meant not taking shit from Adam anytime soon.

No, she wouldn't be his pet. She'd form a quick partnership with the faunus, kill Cinder, then retreat to Menagerie to enjoy life to the fullest in the tropical sun. Her feminine wiles and charms would ensnare his virgin heart -and other virgin parts of his anatomy which had her interest - and he'd forget all about that Belladonna bitch in no time at all. Even if he did harbour lingering feelings for the black cat, it wasn't as if Neo lacked the means for a little sexy dress-up role-play; yes, she liked her signature hair colour, but that didn't mean she didn't look fine as a black-haired temptress, too. Cavorting in leisure on the sandy beaches of the continent humanity had ceded to the faunus people, Neo and Adam would be able to indulge every lustful kink she could imagine - and if Neo had one thing, she had an overactive imagination!

So now she lay on the table, swaddled up like a newborn infant in fresh dry sheets, feeling comfortable for the first time in a while. Her hair was still a wreck, dangling over the edge of the table; she was still a prisoner, she wasn't feeling at all fabulous, but at least she had a smidgen of hope for something farther off than tomorrow.

Hope that he would let her out once she recovered, treat her with some degree of respect: either for her powerful semblance, or for the rest of what she could offer him.

Hope that she would get a chance to carve Torchwick's insignia into Cinder's corpse-flesh. Get a chance to hear the woman beg for mercy from Neo for her role in Torchwick's demise before she ran out of air in her lungs to beg with.

Hope that the moron-faunus would realize that she was not stubbornly defiant, not stuffed up with sick snot, but mute. Once her aura recovered from the illness she could use her semblance to make text that he could read. It would be a while before her aura recovered enough to manage that, though.

She still wondered how Adam's aura had recovered so quickly after she captured him and shattered it. He was very mysterious like that. Combined with his tortured handsomeness defined by countless scars and that _semblance_ of his, Neo was sure that Roman would forgive her for her attraction to the powerful terrorist. Neopolitan looked down her chest, where perched atop the layer of blankets lay Torchwick's hat. _One of Torchwick's hats_, she corrected. He'd had dozens of them, all identical; since she had not had a body to recover she had just taken this one from their hideout when he never showed up. She'd learned he was dead from gossip: apparently after she had fallen off the airship he had died. _All Cinder's fault_. It was her plan!

She imagined Torchwick's face as she remembered it, the way he held his cane and the acrid smell of his cigars while he grinned over some successful heist or swindle. The way he patted her head as she stood beside him while he plotted and schemed. The best days of her life.

Torchwick wouldn't have stood her up at the rendezvous if he was still alive, and everyone she heard from said that he'd died up there. Died fighting, completely opposite of how either of them wished to go; _no, we each would much prefer to die peacefully in our sleep, surrounded by luxury_. She had wished and imagined that he had somehow survived, but after a few months and the arrival of summer those fantasies had faded away. Her semblance's illusions of Roman had nothing on the real deal, and eventually she had realized that living in a world of pretend was not really living at all, so she had shattered her illusions. Leaving her with only hatred. Anger.

Regret.

Her mental image of Torchwick morphed into Adam, his face the one she had seen on the televisions as his attack on Haven had been thwarted: a masked devil of a man, more rage than flesh. They both had red hair. Both criminals. Each openly racist, but willing to work past that with the other for a larger scheme. So many similarities, when she compared them.

Both were dum-dums.

Maybe she just had a type? None of Junior's boys had been anything like Torchwick or Adam. Maybe that was why those were just passing flings or quick cash-grabs for her.

_I'll work with Adam as his partner_, she had decided, _and this time I'll keep the dum-dum alive!_

With her goals clear, her mind focused entirely on ejecting the sickness from her as fast as humanly possible so that she could put her ideas into motion. Not even the nascent fetish of having her soon-to-be partner _breed_ her while wearing Torchwick's hat distracted her for longer than a minute. Than five minutes. For no longer than half an hour.

...

Okay, it might have distracted her a bit longer than that, but it wasn't like the sickness was responding to her silently shouting at it to vacate her body, either, so one could forgive her frustrated fantasies focused on a towering faunus gripping her tightly, her stretched arms grasping upwards to cling onto the horns nestled under the hat while her body slid up and down his toned torso.

_I need fresh underwear_, she lamented.

~J~

**BEDLAM**

The clothes weren't right. They were loose around the waist, tight in the crotch, and they felt itchy on his legs.

_Oh gods_, Bedlam thought, _I hope they didn't make this from faunus-wool_. He actually had to check his pants at one point to make sure that they were actually men's pants. At least Dominic hadn't screwed up _that_ much... but already the bull-faunus developed plans to pass the outfit off to one of his clones: Dominic if possible, Brazen if not.

He took a deep breath and focused his mind on the task at hand, ignoring the irritation of the new clothes. _Infiltrate Blake's house, plant the camera somewhere it would catch their conversations, get out without being detected_. He was lounging about around the house for an hour before sunset, watching team RWBY and their minions milling about around their base. He would be best to do it at night, when the inhabitants were asleep and all he would have to worry about were the token guards Ghira had brought in to protect his darling daughter. They were alert, but he was a professional at these sorts of things, experienced. He'd be able to pull this off.

"Come on Jaune, we can do another fifteen sets before you call it quits!" the bubbly-redhead shouted at her blonde compatriot, halfway in view of the subtle spying eye of Bedlam.

Jaune looked at his shield and shook his head, "no way, Nora. My scroll says I'm already wavering around 30 percent and you know Qrow doesn't want us to get too low while we're still in the city." He turned his shield to the energetic hammer-holder, baring the scroll he had embedded into the back of the boss of the shield. "We're lucky he let us train at all."

_That's clever_, Bedlam thought. It would let the huntsman keep an eye on his aura levels, and those of his allies, without having to reach for his scroll - a good thing to have on hand in a fight. _I wonder if I could do something similar with my weapon_. It gave him something to think about while waiting for Jaune and the rest to go to sleep when their precious sun went away.

Before long, the broken tail of the moon glowed brightly in the sky and Bedlam took a long gasp of the city's night air. This was his people's time to shine, this was when he was strongest: when the moon was the light in the darkness, he did what had to be done to lead his people to salvation. Blake had said so, when she had still seemed to believe unquestioningly in him and the cause.

He saw the ebon-haired object of his desire through a second-story window. Brushing her hair, wearing her pyjamas. The humans had made her weak, had made her follow their sleep cycle. She had been assimilated. Tarnished by her time spent with them, weakened. It filled him with rage, and he had to rationalize with himself to not simply rush in right then to cut a swath through the humans she had surrounded herself with.

_Best to avoid that_, he was finally able to convince himself. They certainly had him outnumbered and, without relying on exceptional good luck on his part, would probably overpower him before he killed more than three of them. If the blonde human had a scroll in his shield with his teammates' auras registered on it, it would certainly cause an alarm to go off if any such humans auras were shattered whilst they slumbered. Safe to say that RWBY had a similar setup. Their teams seemed so close, he could even imagine that all of them had one another's auras monitored on their scrolls. Even on the slim chance they didn't have such foresight: could he take the risk with his life and mission at stake? _Well, I might at least be able to take out the Schnee before they put me down..._

An honour better left to Brazen or Dominic, really, though he felt like having Blake hurt Weiss as a way of showing her renewed loyalty to him would be just as much fun. _Blake, clad in lingerie, kneeling in front of me while Weiss writhes on the floor, straining against her bindings. Muffled cries of protest blocked by a gag as Blake rises to do my bidding, to show that she understands that humans - all humans - are our enemies._

_Or our slaves. Blake begins to remove the clothes from Weiss, constantly looking back to me for approval for each motion_... Bedlam shook the fantasy from his mind. There would be time for those later, when he was not in the middle of his latest mission.

The seven guards patrolled around the house in groups of three, one of them remaining at the front door. They all had their scrolls running comms, keeping up idle chatter. If he was trying to take them down, he'd have a tough time of it. He wasn't sure if they had their auras unlocked, but if they did then taking down one or three would probably alert the others to the intrusion, just like how damaging any of Blake's friends would alert the others' scrolls. Perhaps not quickly enough to save their own, treacherous hides, but certainly enough time to alert the residents and the authorities. Ghira must have set them up like that to deter him; his old mentor seemed to think that Adam was completely given to crazed bloodlust now - sadly for Ghira, Adam had managed to get his mind in order. Bedlam would just have to avoid the guards entirely, and Ghira's entire setup would work against Blake and her teammates: with no alarm raised and the guards fine in the morning, they would not think anything was amiss and the candid camera would capture _everything_. Or so Bedlam hoped. Honestly the entire plan relied heavily on Blake and her friends talking freely in the living room of the house about something relevant to their plans for the future that he could capitalize on.

It was much more likely that he'd just have a better ear to listen to Jaune's team complaining about training regimens; a front-row seat to a group of teenaged girls complain about make-up and their outfits and boys they erroneously considered cuter than him.

As he made his way into the living room, he had to wonder why Blake would assume that he would go through the trouble of trying to fight the guards outside before coming for her: she had been on stealth missions with him often enough to know that he could do things without killing when the occasion demanded it. Maybe she had thought that the sight of the Menagerie militia faunus outside would remind him of his defeat at Haven and make him forget his training...

That probably would have worked on Dominic, and perhaps on Brazen. It didn't work on him, though. All he cared about was Blake. _The other two think that my focus is a weakness_, he preened, _and maybe they were right about it when it got me caught by Neopolitan, but now it is working in my favour. I am the only Adam who could have done this job right._ He looked around the living room. He could put it under the coffee table in the middle of the room, but if anyone decided to lie down on the floor and look up they might see the camera there. There was a lot of seating, but there were more of them living in the house. He looked under one of the plush couches; there was enough room under there for the camera to fit in, and he would even be able to see through the lens a bit. He reached under the couch to feel for a place to fit the device in, only to find something cold and hard already there. Curious, he lifted the couch up a bit and was alarmed to see a listening device already there; he gently lowered the couch to the floor.

Mistral. The government had beaten him to the punch and was already spying on them. Or, more accurately, spying on Ghira. The moment the local authorities had realized a foreign leader was in their midst, of course they would bug anywhere he might talk privately with his confidants and family.

_If I leave the government microphone in place, then the human authorities will know what I know if Blake's people do anything relevant in this room. If I remove it, they'll suspect that Blake or her allies found it and destroyed it: will they try to put in a replacement? Will they punish her or her team, or would that just be an awkward diplomatic incident for them?_

_Probably not. With the faunus militia in town, and their own forces decimated by Hazel and Lionheart's machinations, the human government is at the mercy of Ghira._ It was funny, in a way, that the humans of Mistral had found themselves conquered by the pacifist, if only temporarily. _With all of the kids cooped up in here, the government would have a difficult time of it trying to replace the monitor secretly._

Another thought came to him: _it__ could even be something that Lionheart put into the room for Salem and her minions, before Ghira arrived._ Bedlam wondered how much Cinder and Lionheart had known about Blake's friends' plans before they had arrived at Haven for their confrontation; _who knows, it's not like I can ask either of them now. _Bedlam could think of nobody else interested in Blake's affairs, so after due consideration he crushed the microphone in his hand. _Even after all that you've done to me, Blake, I still find myself having to protect you from your own incompetence._ Maybe he had not taught her as well as he had hoped; certainly she had strayed from his philosophy, but to be so blatantly unaware of her own home being bugged... shameful. Despite his shame as her teacher, he hoped that if some Mistralian operative was actively listening he had blown out their eardrums by crushing the device; even traitors like Ghira and Blake were marginally better than human spies in his book. Looking around the room, he saw what might be a better alternative to putting the camera under the couch, since that location might be examined by whatever persons had planted the microphone. He went over to the wooden dresser by the wall and opened one of the drawers.

It would suit his purpose.

It was empty inside; the temporary residents hadn't had any need for the extra storage space, so the furniture was completely decorative during their stay. He put the camera in the drawer and unscrewed the handle, leaving a hole to let the camera see through. _Would they notice that the handle is missing?_ He went into the kitchen and grabbed a thin knife and began to whittle the handle, boring a hole through the centre of it to make it less suspicious, letting the flakes of wood fall into the drain of the sink.

It was slow, delicate work, and took longer than he would have liked. Long enough that his faunus hearing detected the creak of a floorboard, then of a stair. Like a ninja, he leapt up onto the counter, then pressed his body up to the corner of the ceiling with his feet pressed against the cabinetry. One hand against the ceiling, the other against his Blush on his back, poised to shoot Wilt out to defend himself from Blake.

The youngest girl, the one they called Ruby, shuffled into the room with all the subtlety of a zombie clad in flower-print pyjamas.

"...cookies-mmmmm...secret-treats-mmmmm… must have you..."

Bedlam didn't let down his guard, wary of a trick, but it seemed like the girl was sleep-walking. She shambled up to the fridge and opened it, taking out a resealable container full of cookies which Bedlam suspected the girls had baked during their boring stay in the house after the battle. A letter taped to the container read "RUBY DO NOT EAT", clearly visible even for human eyes in the light of the open fridge.

She opened the container and ate one of the cookies. Bedlam smiled, appreciating her utter disdain for the laws others would impose on her. Then he remembered that she was one of the humans who had helped ruin Blake.

_If it wouldn't screw up my mission, I would drop down _right now_ and stick my sword through her_, he thought. _That'd teach Blake to make friends with human scum._

_Blake_, his mind thought of his darling. _Her bedroom must be close_, he thought as his back pressed up against the ceiling. _This is the closest I've been to her since Haven_. He almost felt like his aura was touching hers. Was she dreaming about him, upstairs in her bed? Did she remember all the time they spent together, for the more-than-a-decade they'd been _together_ in the White Fang? He recalled how she had blossomed while he had known her: how her martial skills had come to rival his own, how her body had grown...

He felt his own body doing some growing of its own, straining against the tight fabric of the pants Dominic had somehow thought were appropriately designed. He tried to stop thinking about how Blake looked.

He failed.

He spent the better part of ten minutes perched, uncomfortably with his erection pressed against his trousers, on the cabinetry while the girl ate several cookies at an agonizingly slow pace(during which time she seemed to wake up enough to realize what she was doing, though she ate another two cookies before returning the cookies to the fridge), then a glass of milk, before finally tip-toeing back upstairs thinking herself the stealthiest thing to ever walk.

The real claimant to that title dropped back down to the floor without a sound, readjusted his pants by tugging at the hem, then swept over to the dresser where he replaced the knob of the drawer handle. Nobody would notice anything amiss, and he'd have some visual input from his plan rather than just audio.

He escaped the house as he'd come, undetected by Ghira's guards stationed outside: a shadow flitting through the tree, across the rooftop and away from their refuge. High on his success, he strode down the streets in his uncomfortable disguise and considered what to do next. He pulled out the scroll and confirmed that he was able to receive audio and visual stream from the planted camera.

It pleased him. It was another step towards bringing Blake back to his side: learning more about her plans, her friends, and what they had that had convinced her to stay with them instead of returning to him.

_I should go to a weapons shop, buy some ammunition for Blush, see if I can modify Wilt's handle to accommodate my scroll_, he thought. He wanted to make it so that his scroll could be unfolded from the handle as needed, removing the need for him to reach for it in his pants with a hand he probably wouldn't be able to spare during a fight. It wouldn't be as convenient as the human's shield, but it was still a sound idea. He'd certainly be more prone to lose his scroll – or his pants – before losing Wilt, right? Especially in a fight.

Since RWBY had set themselves up in a neighbourhood that housed a fair number of huntsmen and mercenaries passing through Mistral, it didn't take him long to find a nearby dust machinery shop. He only had to wait a half hour – desperately trying to wear in his new pants all the while – before the shopkeeper showed up to open for business. The man accepted Bedlam's lien and one of the fake huntsman licenses he had in his wallet, allowing Bedlam free reign in the crafting station room while he went about setting up his dust displays in the front of the store. Adam claimed one of the stations for himself, the protective barrier placed to prevent one person's work from sparking at their neighbours serving to give him valuable privacy as well. He removed his blindfold and lay it on the flat of the work table, then detached the handle of Wilt from the rest of the blade and attached it to the lathe. He began work, measuring the length of his scroll and sketching up some ways to let the screen of the scroll roll out from his handle. While he worked he left Neo's scroll to the side, playing the dark scene of the unoccupied living room. Nothing was happening. Blake and her friends were still asleep, lazily sleeping in.

Bedlam's progress on his weapon was slow, since his attention so often found itself pulled towards the dark screen anyways.

* * *

AN: Hope you enjoyed. More chapters eventually, based on the marginal hours between sleep and work that allow me to write out my delusional ideas about my Adam harem.


	14. Watering the Wilted Roses of Pieria

**BEDLAM**

Of Blake's team, Ruby was the last to come down for breakfast. He watched on Neo's scroll and listened to their chatter as they ate. The blonde, Yang, was concerned that Ruby didn't eat much compared to the others. _Probably because she filled up on cookies_. The other team was there, too. Nora complained about being stuck in the house. She had no idea what a real cage was, what confinement really meant. So what that she'd had to sit in the nice house for a few weeks? Adam and his people had endured so much worse.

He returned his attention to his work at the crafting station. Possibly his finest work to date, his scroll was securely in the handle of Wilt and the weight wasn't too wonky. From the way Blake had lounged around for the past few days he felt like he probably would have plenty of time to adjust to it.

Qrow, Ruby's huntsman uncle, came down the stairs.

"Oh look, he's finally woken up," muttered Nora to the Schnee, the pair of them having busied themselves cleaning their weapons near the camera's hiding spot so that their whispers were clearly audible.

"Shhh, don't start like that around Ruby!" Weiss snapped back under her breath.

"You promised that we'd be able to leave the house soon, but that was days ago." Nora spoke up, directing the question at the house's physically eldest resident. Bedlam watched the screen again, intrigued by the older human huntsman's apparent sobriety. Nora folded up her weapon and put it into its case. Jaune polished his sword while sitting in a chair, and Blake leaned against the wall by the stairs.

"Hey, you're welcome to walk out those doors into the streets any time you want, just remember what I said about the lower levels..." Qrow slurred loudly without looking at the girl, then stopped himself and groaned, massaging his head before continuing, "sorry... but yeah, we've got a plan in the works but it's taking a while because he was recovering," Qrow said to the assembly as he slumped down into the unoccupied couch. Bedlam turned up the volume on the scroll a bit. "Knowledge has to be taken to somewhere safe, and Mistral no longer can provide that. It's probably not the worst idea for you all if you decide to go back to your families or whatever lives you want to lead. You could hang on here for Haven or head back to what's left of Vale... Oz and I can manage it from here. Nobody can say that you kids haven't put in enough-"

"No. I'm coming with you." Ruby said instantly, without hesitation.

"Me too," Jaune seconded, his voice filled with a morose determination, looking at the golden cross guard of his sword.

"I'm not leaving Ruby," Yang added, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back on the other couch sitting beside Nora and Jaune's other male teammate. "If she hangs out with you too much she'll spend all her time playing video games and eating cookies while you chase skirts."

"What's wrong with video games and cookies?" Ruby said in the background.

Weiss piped up, "neither am I."

"Renny and I have nowhere else to go, and we want to see this through," said the voice of Nora.

"I'm done running away from people who need me," Blake said from the background.

_Sounds like you're fine with running away from me, though_, Bedlam thought. At least it represented what might be considered a positive development in his darling's character if he didn't know her better than that. Things would take a turn for the worse soon enough for Blake, and then she'd be back to her old habits. Would the humans have the strength to keep loving her after she left _them_ again, would she manage to earn her place at their feet back by coming to their rescue like she had at Haven? Bedlam didn't think so. Eventually she would realize he was the only one who could deal with her weakness. Eventually she would find her way back to her side, and if she was smart she would do it sooner rather than after he'd had to carry through on his promise to destroy every thing she held precious in her heart besides him. If she thought dismembering was the worst he had in store for her little friends, she was sorely mistaken.

Qrow nodded in a resigned way, as if he had expected the unanimous response but had felt like he had to offer them the chance to get away from Blake anyways. "Alright then. I'll go arrange travel for us at the train station."

"Can't we just fly there like we did to get here?" Nora asked.

"With dust at a premium and the military on full alert in Mistral, fuel is getting hard to come by. Air travel is restricted to military ops only."

"We don't count?" Ruby asked.

"None of us are ranking Mistral military... most of you weren't even born or lived in Mistral," the boy Nora identified as Renny admitted. "Where are we taking it?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, there's only one Kingdom still standing that has the power to protect it from Salem's forces." Qrow said, "only one Kingdom that still has the dust and weaponry to stand up to the grimm in a fight."

"So, we need to take the relic to Atlas?" responded Ruby.

All eyes turned to look at Bedlam's spy camera, or so he thought until he heard Weiss complain, "you've got to be joking?" Apparently the Schnee didn't feel like going home. Maybe she was concerned that her father would throw her capable, strong allies into a pit to scrounge for dust crystals; it was sort of his style.

"I mean, bright side: we finally get out of this house!"

Weiss sighed dramatically and slouched forward.

"Well trust me, I'm not crazy about it either. And without the Spring Maiden here to seal the relic back in its vault it's our best option."

Relic.

They had said relic, and Bedlam sprung into motion as he realized what that meant. He fumbled with his augmented weapon, unfurled his scroll and pressed the record function. Brazen would want to hear this for himself since, while Bedlam had no doubts about his ability to faithfully convey the gist of what Blake and her companions were talking about, his twin would want as much raw unbiased data as he could get.

Renny and Qrow were discussing the closed borders of Atlas, and the possibility of getting through via the northern city of Argus. _I remember Argus. So many humans willing to look the other way when bandits brought 'criminal' faunus to be sent to Atlas mines on work-release programs. Their entire city was founded on the ties between the humans of Atlas and Mistral, but it was built on the backs and bones of my people._

Blake suddenly slid forward, "I mean, we do have the missing heiress to the Schnee Dust Company." For a moment, Bedlam's heart lit up with hope that maybe Blake was somehow planning the long-con to get close to the Schnees, or to use Weiss as leverage over her father.

"'Ex heiress', actually." Weiss corrected.

"True, true, but if there's a chance of reward money I say we go for it." Yang said with a grin at the Schnee.

_Blake's partner probably could use the lien, too, by the look of that expensive prosthetic._ Bedlam considered. Clearly Atlesian tech, which was all the worse considering how many faunus slaves he had seen working in the mines with missing limbs after brutal industrial accidents? Where were the golden arms and legs for the faunus? _Blake, how can you stand there beside your partner and ignore the injustice tacitly expressed on the stump I gave her for you?_

_I'll hurt them all for you, my love._

"Hopefully the first option will suffice." A young boy wearing orange suspenders, leaning on a familiar cane, hobbled into the scene. _That cane..._ Bedlam racked his mind for where he had seen it before while the boy continued to speak.

Blake spoke up, drawing back his attention to what was being said. "Great. As long as that thing's out in the open its power could fall into the wrong hands." _Or, onto my hand?_ Bedlam joked silently to himself, then realized where he had seen that cane before. He had seen that cane right before he had found the Relic of Choice under Beacon. It had been on the corpse of the dead headmaster; he'd messed with it and it had done some mechanical thing. The boy must be some relative of the headmaster of Beacon, which would explain why he would be travelling with the rest of them.

Jaune then asked the boy what the relic did. Bedlam made sure his scroll was recording everything clearly.

"Of course," said the boy, "the Relic of Knowledge has a wonderful and incredibly dangerous ability: its user can ask any question, and the lamp will provide an answer." The statement was met with impressed astonishment from the other children in the room, including Blake. _Blake is intrigued by the Relic of Knowledge. Maybe I can use that to my advantage?_ "However, it's not without drawbacks. The lamp cannot tell you of events that have yet to happen, and it will only ever answer three questions... every one hundred years."

He recorded the rest of the plot exposition dumped on Blake and her friends until their dispersal upstairs to pack and prepare to leave. He left the weapon shop and began his swift hustle back to TorchQuik while his mind swirled with half-formed ideas and schemes to use what he had learned to his advantage. Even if the Relic of Knowledge's power had already been used up for the century, the fact that Blake wanted to protect it was reason enough for him to want it - if only to spite her, bait her into a trap, or force her compliance. Once he took it he could figure out the best way to use it for the advancement of his purpose. In the end, the glowing lamp was just another of her many weaknesses, begging to be exploited in order to bring her crawling back to him. More urgently, at the end of their discussion Qrow had gone to arrange for their travel in a couple days on a train to Argus. Bedlam used his scroll to check departure plans from the station, noting with no concern that Dominic's incoming ship was still out of contact range, and determined that the earliest Blake's teams could get transport on a train would be the day after tomorrow aboard the _Argus Unlimited_. He had a feeling that they'd be on that train, so that meant he'd have to be on it, too. The next train for Argus wasn't due to leave for another week; it was a long, dangerous trip along the coastline.

_Silly Blake_, he thought, _don't you remember that __trains have a terrible _track_ record when we're involved?_

~J~

**BRAZEN**

As much fun as caring for the involuntarily invalid Neopolitan might be, Brazen had other things to do, too. During one of his latest acquisition's naps, he sent Hazel a text message asking to meet; no longer concerned about his aura or missing copy, now was the time to revisit his conversation with the human about his organization's plans and next steps. Maybe Hazel knew about Cinder's likely locations if she had to find a hole to crawl into to lick her wounds. Maybe he'd heard from Cinder directly already since last they'd spoken!

Brazen left Neo in the care of Dominic, who promised to try not to let her expire. His lack of enthusiasm for the task notwithstanding, Brazen rushed off in his original clothes to his rendezvous with Hazel. They chose to meet in a public park at noon. Open enough to allow for a variety of escape routes should either one betray the other, public enough to make each hesitate to create a commotion, but private enough to have a conversation without being overheard by the locals. When Brazen made it to the park, he quickly spotted Hazel sitting on a bench. He had put on a shawl and a grey wig that gave him the appearance of a down-on-his luck vagabond, but even hunched over he was still a large man. The various human mothers kept their distance from the stranger, and kept shooting wary glances at him whilst their children frolicked on the colourful play structures. A flock of gulls and pigeons surrounded him, devoid of the concerns held by the human parents, cawing out greedily for crumbs of bread that he occasionally tossed onto the ground. Brazen wound his way through the birds and sat down beside his contact.

"Did anyone follow you?"

"I don't think anyone knows I'm still here. The law was focused mainly on the Fang's headquarters last time I checked. I wasn't followed here."

"Good."

The sat in silence for a moment, Hazel throwing out another handful of bread to the shrieking avians.

"Have you heard from Cinder?"

"No. I wouldn't hold out hope for her and think you're wasting your time." Hazel replied testily. He clearly still had some hangups about his feminine associate's poor planning that had led to their rout at the school; hangups which Adams could relate to. "If she is still alive, then I'll let her sort out her own messes. I've my own issues at hand. I made contact with a local criminal information broker named Lil' Miss Malachite. She has a bunch of pseudo-huntsmen and similar rogues that operate a spy ring and mercenary outfit in Mistral. Since Tyrian and I wiped out the majority of local licensed huntsmen, they've been getting a lot of business to fill that niche. She charged me a hefty fee to get me information on where Oz and Qrow's children had gone after the battle ended and what sort of defences they have."

Brazen, with great personal restraint, managed not to snort derisively at that. _I could have told you that for free_, he thought. Then again, Hazel was less stealthy than Adam Taurus. He couldn't exactly go up to spy on their house himself. Hopefully Salem paid her minions' expenses. "If my sources are correct, their house is guarded by Belladonna's faunus militia at all hours, making another attack on them pointless. Why do you care about them?"

"I have reasons, but the only one I can tell you is that I have a personal stake in making sure Oz dies horribly." Hazel turned to Brazen and leaned towards the bull faunus, "I'll tell you his dirty little secret, and unlike Malachite I'll do so free-of-charge. Better for all of us aligned against him to know the truth. I might not have agreed with your bloody coup, but I wouldn't stop such methods from being used against Oz."

"So what, I'm your attack animal now? What is the truth and who is Oz?"

"He's not human. He's a soul parasite, leaping from host to host over the centuries, treating human and faunus as pawns. Pieces in his grand game. That's why we used the black queen chess piece as our logo for the attack on Beacon. To show that we're more than his pawns. Salem was cursed by the gods; her mission is to stop Ozma and bring peace to this world. He made my sister believe that she was fighting for humanity, when the truth was that he was just training her to be a meat shield between his host body and Salem's power. Just like he's done to all of those kids, including the Belladonna girl you obsess over. I pity them, but I can't let him use my pity for his pawns against me or sentient life on Remnant."

"How do you plan to stop him?"

Hazel sighed, "I can't. Whenever his host dies, he just leaps to a new one some time later. Cinder killed his host at Beacon, who you would know as Headmaster Ozpin."

Brazen remembered the corpse in the bowels of Beacon, right before he had stumbled onto finding the vending machine that would change his life so suddenly.

"He's found a new one remarkably fast this time, from what I know. Salem has never been able to determine how his soul finds a new host, since he's not keen on sharing that with anyone, so we haven't been able to devise a device to inhibit his inevitable recoveries. Maybe there is a way to use the speed with which he found his latest, young host against him. I'm not sure if he has ever inhabited a host as young as the current boy before. He's even younger than my sister was when Ozpin sent her to her death..."

Brazen gave the man a moment to wallow in his dark thoughts about his dead sibling. His mind wandered dangerously near to empathy, and he found himself remembering how he felt when his aura shattered. That sudden, unexpected concern that one of his newly created siblings was hurt, possibly killed. To have someone so closely related to oneself suddenly risked, harmed. Adam had thought that he had known that feeling each time he witnessed the suffering of other faunus, but never having had true family it seemed Adam's sympathetic pain that had drawn him into the White Fang had been dim in comparison to that which Hazel bore.

_Soul parasites and old grudges aside, I still have more pressing business that occupies my_ _thoughts._ "Do you think this Malachite woman would be able to help me track down Cinder?"

"Possibly. If anyone could, it would be her." Hazel harrumphed, "she might not help you, though. I'm a known outlaw, which she accepts as a typical sort of customer. You're something else. Terrorist, revolutionary, and faunus on top of that. She wouldn't take kindly to your kind, and I'm not even sure which of those labels she would discriminate against first. She'd abhor the first two because as a criminal she wants society to stay just stable enough for her to continue leeching off of. On the other hand, her business is one of the few I've seen in the city that still has a sign refusing service to faunus."

Brazen growled with unabashed anger, "you're not really selling me on her, by reputation." Adam Taurus tended to avoid dealing with overt human racists with lien when his blade was at hand.

"She'd hate your guts and charge you an obscene amount, but if anyone can track down Cinder it would be her, so you might have to accept the stain of associating with one such as her," Hazel replied coolly, "but since you seem determined to find Cinder, I think you'll bend your moral stance enough to work with her for a while, at least until you get what you want. The real question is why do you care?"

_That nagging question again_.

Why Cinder? What was it about finding her that had made him, _him_? Suddenly an Adam distinct from the original, created by the magical power of the Relic of Choice?

It was because she was more approachable than Salem. It was because he admired her for the power she wielded as much as he was intrigued by its potential. It was because she owed him for what he had lost after they were defeated at Haven.

_"You're the one we need. Your skill. Your ability to lead those beneath you. You're an exceptionally valuable man, Adam." _It was because she had realized in him the strength he had always known was there. Vindication. He was special.

Where Sienna had faltered, Cinder had followed through. Violence was the answer, but Sienna just hadn't thought big enough.

_"We could have gone to anyone for help, but we chose you, Adam Taurus._" She'd needed him. She'd chosen him as her partner to destroy the wretched edifices of human civilization.

Where Blake had turned and fled, Cinder had returned and led him to a great victory.

"I made an agreement to work with Cinder." Brazen said, "I believe in keeping promises. If she's still alive I want to be first in line to claim what I deserve - and I will, because she still needs me. My White Fang might be in tatters, but our revolution is far from finished."

Hazel grunted.

"I will see whatever power Cinder has used for the benefit of my fight, or I will see proof of her demise. Unless you can do anything near the level she is capable of..." Brazen stared down Hazel, waiting. Hazel didn't meet the stare, instead tossing several more handfuls of crumbs at the birds on the ground. Hazel looked like he was struggling internally, his lips pinched tightly against one another; as if he wanted desperately to say something pertinent but was inclined not to say. Brazen wouldn't hold such secret-keeping against his burly human ally, though. The new information about Blake's headmaster was progress enough to warrant his explanation of his interest in Cinder.

"No, my abilities are not anything on par with what Cinder is capable of," Hazel admitted. _Not too proud to say that_, Brazen admired the man for knowing what he was and what he was capable of. "Though she is still far from reaching her full potential, both in terms of power and planning."

The two of them looked at the flock of birds at their feet for a minute in silence.

"So what will you do now?"

"Now I have to find out what Oz's next move is. Right now he seems to be content to stay in a house on the upper levels, well-guarded by the faunus militia and the local authorities alike. If I'm going to redeem myself to Salem, I have to give her actionable information on her foe's agenda. So I've paid Malachite for that information, too. She told me to visit her again next Monday, since she hadn't heard anything yesterday about Oz's plans. He's not going to stay in Mistral forever." Hazel said, "I'm going to head back out to the ship to let the kids know the timeline is going to depend on that information, then I might hang out outside of the city. If you need to contact me, I'll be back in Mistral for next Monday to meet Malachite."

"I like that you trust me not to betray your plans," Brazen said.

"Who would you betray me to?" Hazel said, his tone almost approaching a bit of a jovial chuckle, "the faunus have cast you aside after you lost against the Belladonnas, the humans see you as a symbol of terror and fear. My faction is the only home you have left, really. I'll say it again: you should just come with me. I won't press the matter, but if you change your mind you know where our airship is hidden."

"When you put it like that, you make me feel unpopular," Brazen complained.

Hazel stood up, causing the birds to shuffle backwards with concern at the rising giant figure. "Stay out of harm's way, Taurus. We'll meet again, I imagine."

Brazen nodded. "I'll contact you on Monday of next week, then."

~J~

The city of Mistral is serviced by a set of large freight elevators, used to carry goods and people from one level of the city to another. They tended to be crowded, even in the darkening twilight as Brazen rode it back down from the nicer upper levels (which had amenities such as parks) to the shadowy lower level. He thought about Hazel's words: looking through the bustling human city on his own for Cinder was getting him nowhere. This Malachite person seemed like the ideal candidate to hasten his success. Adam Taurus had grown accustomed to having his followers at hand to perform information-gathering such as this; with the Fang having deserted him, he would have to pay for the information he needed to move forward. Hazel's warning about the information broker's racism was probably well-founded, but altogether unwarranted. He would simply have his multicoloured companion ask for information in his stead, once her cold cleared up and loyalty was assured (or at least, enough to convince him that she wouldn't kill him until after they caught up with Cinder). If nothing else, she could at least be trusted to follow up on the lead. He stepped off the dimly-lit elevator and began walking towards the warehouse, when suddenly his nose picked up a scent.

Like scorched earth. Like the smell of fresh charcoal in the tundra.

Cinder.

He spun around and scanned the nearby crowd as they shuffled off of the elevator. Doubts crept into his mind, slowly eroding his certainty that he had actually detected the scent at all. Maybe he had just been thinking so much about Cinder, the scent-memory had paired itself with his thoughts. The elevator sealed its gates and the massive gears and pulleys began groaning as it began its ascent back up the mountain's core. Maybe he had just smelled a nearby cooking pot. He began to shrug it off as his mind having just been so occupied with finding Cinder that he had imagined-

There.

On the elevator, going up. _Fuck_. Of course he smelled her getting on; if she had gotten off with him he would have smelled her on the way down. How could he have been so stupid?

He couldn't exactly get onto the elevator now, but it was definitely her standing behind a grumpy-looking androgynous human in overalls. A light-brown cloak with a sash that revealed her figure, dark brown hood over her head, but most importantly a black hand that passerby might dismiss as a glove in the low-light. His keen senses recognized the grimm augmentation his ally had sported after her victory at Beacon. He remembered how she smelled the day that she had laid waste to his wilderness camp. It had to be her, but to his mounting fury he had no way of discreetly reaching her. Having to operate in the shadows, being discreet... it wasn't supposed to have to be like this anymore, but here he was. Sure, he could climb up the elevator's cord and grapple his way up to the rising platform or parkour his way up to her, but there were a lot of people that would see him do it . He'd reveal his identity, the authorities would get involved, and Cinder would probably either flee or kill him for ruining both of their disguises. His bet was on flee, which would leave him alone against whatever the humans of Mistral had on hand to throw at him to kill or subdue a wanted terrorist.

Nothing Mistral had was anything that he was afraid of, but also nothing that would be productive to waste his time with. _Why should I waste time killing humans one by one, when by finding Cinder I can get her magical powers to aid me in breaking them in one fell stroke?_

So, like a civilian, he had to wait for the other elevator to make it down so that he could board it instead. While he waited, he tried to determine where she would go. Some new hideout? A stash for weapons, dust, lien? Maybe she would head to the school, or maybe she'd go straight after team RWBY? He sent Hazel a text, asking him if he knew of where Cinder had been staying in Mistral. After an infuriating delay the response came that Hazel had already destroyed the place where Cinder and her assistants had holed up in the city so as to better prevent any evidence they'd left there from falling into Ozpin's hands.

By the time he got to the upper level, the fresh mountain breeze had dispersed any lingering scent she may have left in her wake. He would have to rely on his wits to track her.

_Hazel didn't know where RWBY was without paying the information dealer, so it is unlikely that she went there_, he thought. _Of course, maybe that was a bad assumption?_ _Bedlam is over there anyways, so maybe he might catch Cinder if she goes there._ Or maybe Bedlam had just put the spy camera in place and headed back to the warehouse like he was supposed to. _Cinder is a bit hot-headed at times, would she let her desire to kill Ruby get in the way of common sense like it did for her plan to attack Haven?_

_Probably_, Brazen concluded upon reflection. Despite that, he still felt confident that Cinder wouldn't know where her enemies were. So that just left him with the school or a place that Hazel had burned down.

_If Hazel burnt down her hideout upon first doubling back into the city, that would have been something akin to a week ago. Surely Cinder would have realized by now that the place was destroyed,_ Brazen reasoned. The only way that she'd go there would be if she was if she'd been living under a rock since her defeat. _So chances are she doesn't know where RWBY is, and knows her previous holdout is lost, which just_ leaves...

He went to Haven Academy, where he was impressed by the state of the campus: they had made full repairs. Sure, there hadn't been that much damage to the grounds but they had put in the effort and now the campus looked like it had the afternoon before the battle. Brazen was not impressed by the lack of his quarry. No sign or scent of her anywhere. Eventually he was herded away from the school by a group of security guards, who told him that unless he was a prospective student looking to join the second semester for non-huntsmen students - such as for people who merely wanted to study grimm, design weaponry, or fill other non-combat specializations - he would have to leave the premises.

Brazen cursed his luck, having been so close to Cinder without realizing it. He wondered if she had gone to her ruined base, or to see team RWBY. Maybe Bedlam would run into her if he was still spying on them in person; he could at least count on himself to report such an encounter faithfully Or maybe Cinder had gone to some other, fourth location, that he had not considered. If only he had some clue as to where she had gone, what she had been doing since the battle. "Well, at least I have something solid to report to Salem," he muttered to himself. He didn't particularly relish the thought of going back down into the rank lair he had left the seer grimm at. He bought a few extra bars of soap on his way there, knowing that he would have to use the at least one full bar to clean the stink off of himself afterwards. He needed to relocate the seer to somewhere less loathsome, for his own sake.

"Salem." He called out as he casually dropped down into the sewer with his weaponry drawn. He sensed the tendrils of the creature stutter, then retreat back into its floating mass where it hovered near the ceiling of the cesspool. He wondered if the creature would have tried to strangle him if he hadn't called out its mistress' name. With Wilt in hand, he was confident that it would have had a much more difficult time in getting its tentacles wrapped around him like their previous encounter.

Her voice echoed in the sewer tunnel, "Adam Taurus. You have returned. What news from Mistral?" Her tone sounded languid, perhaps bored. For a moment he hoped that he had not taxed her patience in taking so long in returning to face her and her wretchedly-limbed mouthpiece.

"I detected Cinder, though I was not able to reach her. I am almost certain that she lives, and is in the city still."

Salem narrowed her eyes at him, then turned to her side. Strange lights flared beyond the scope of what he could see through the grimm orb, though he could see her mumbling to herself and concentrating. The lights faded and she turned back to regard Brazen with her full attention. "Excellent. If Cinder is still in play then our plans may still succeed. I was able to ascertain that she lives on my own, but I still need a deeper understanding of her current state. What was she doing when you interacted with her?"

"As I am, she was in disguise to hide from the human authorities who have returned to the city after sweeping through the White Fang headquarters. Her scent is unmistakable, and her grimm hand was visible. She went into the upper reaches of the city on the elevator. I attempted to follow her, but lost her trail. I searched the repaired school for any sign of her, but found none. I didn't think she would know of Blake's team's location, though if she did travel there I may know about it via my own informants once I return to my current base."

"Keep an eye on the school and the huntresses. For the latter, keep your eye open for any strange or unusual objects that they seem to be overly protective of."

Brazen nodded, "Hazel continues to linger in town while Mercury tends to Emerald's wounds at their airship. He has recommended a local information broker that may prove useful in tracking down Cinder."

"Be wary of such a person. You are not the only one seeking Cinder in Mistral, Adam. The humans have tasted the sweetness of victory after Haven stayed standing, and are hungry for more. Both dear Cinder and yourself will attract a full response from their highest authorities if detected now."

"True, but as long as I'm offering lien to the broker to know when she has been found then I'll at least be in position to ensure that she is not captured by the military – or at least that she does not spend enough time in their prison to develop an opinion on the dining options there." Brazen half-smiled, not yet confident of her approval for the jest." As for my own safety, I am taking pains to ensure that my dealings with the humans can be done through a reliable intermediary."

Neo would be reliable, after some training and convincing.

"Can you shrink this creature again for transportation? I've recently changed my preference of hideout; walking across the city is a hassle. Especially with the law getting thicker." With Kuchinashi safe and the White Fang headquarters dealt with, he had noticed a marked increase in the local police presence. Especially in the lower areas. Coming to the sewer, he had seen more police in the faunus district than ever before, than in any other neighbourhood. It slightly bothered him that the faunus didn't even have the good sense to feel concerned about it. _No, they seem to be overjoyed to have the armed human presence increase around them_. It would probably bother Dominic more, but between the two of them they would both see where it would inevitably lead. When Ghira left, when things were safe and good for humanity again, their police forces would be perfectly positioned to crack down on the faunus to 'teach them there place'. There was a reason why the faunus neighbourhood was at the bottom of the city, and that reason was human design.

Salem closed her eyes in concentration and the creature began to wrinkle, the tendrils retracting into its orb-like head.

"Hazel offered me passage with him and the children to you, if I was so inclined."

"Unless you have Cinder with you, continue to search and stay with her for the time being. Her importance is vital to our plans to overthrow the human kingdoms." The creature's body continued to shrink, and so Salem spoke one last time before the orb crumpled flat; "I hope to hear more from you soon. Your loyalty and resourcefulness continues to please me." Her praise caused Brazen's chest to swell and his mind to relax; so long as she saw him as an asset, he would have her support. With everything he had to offer, it wouldn't be too difficult to stay on her good side.

Brazen caught the creature, now like a deflated balloon, in his hand. It felt odd to be holding the monster in his palm like this. A mix of power and disgust. He folded it up and stuffed it in the zippered pocket on the chest of his jacket, since he never really kept anything in there. Despite the risks, he would have to take it to Torchquik. Without water, it wasn't much of a threat. If it could collect data for Salem even while dehydrated, he could overcome that risk by putting it in one of the offices. A door and a wall between him and the creature should ensure his privacy. Once he needed to contact Salem again, he'd simply resuscitate it in the bathroom. It was a solid setup, allowing easy communication with Salem if needed while also keeping her in the dark regarding his location and company. _Best that she didn't know where his hideout was, or who he was with._ That applied to both his clones and Neopolitan; just like the seer, he wanted to keep those secrets close to his chest until he knew more about Salem.

_Is the enemy of my enemy my friend, my ally, or my rival?_

~J~

**DOMINIC**

"So how was your day? What did you do?"

He'd spent the day alternating between checking the local news on his scroll, exercising in the warehouse, and making sure Neo wasn't dead.

The news was completely focused on Kuchinashi: the return of Rothy and that caravan, the pride the people there took in surviving such a large grimm assault with so few casualties – _because they were after my relic_ – which brought up the humans' spirits, the efforts underway to repair and rebuild better than before. Thankfully there didn't seem to be any more interest about the mysterious benefactor who protected the train of escapees. No more articles confusing him with the bandit woman; whether or not the mistake worked in his favour or not, it still irked him to see.

He'd tried to make an effort to stay in peak physical form by doing some acrobatics in the warehouse rafters, some cardio, and practising with Wilt. That last bit was far less effective without a decent sparring partner.

Neo might have been able to fill that role, if she were either A) Trustworthy or B) Mobile. To his irritation she was still content to just lie there wrapped up in bed like a sponge, happy to be fed with pudding and fruit when he went in to check on her. He kept his visits into her chamber brief and silent, hoping that his disguise and the sheer impossibility of his situation would let her believe him to be a faunus ally of Adam Taurus. He tried not to think of it as demeaning to his self-esteem.

"Nothing much," Dominic responded, noting Bedlam's drawn weapon as he entered the warehouse and made his query. _Right, he's still suspicious about the human's illusions_. "Luro was first in the throne room."

Bedlam sighed with relief and stowed his sword.

"Actually, you may as well keep it drawn: I could use a sparring partner and it's not like the human's been up for that." Dominic said, drawing his own sword quickly, "how was your day?"

Bedlam moved to the desk, leaving his sword in Blush, where he took out Neo's scroll and set it up so that he could keep an eye on it while they sparred. "I got the camera in position and learned some very important stuff about... everything that the two of you need to hear. I guess if you need me for sparring practice that Brazen is still out and about?" Dominic nodded to confirm that. "After I set up the camera – which was ridiculously easy, I'll add – I went to a weapon-smithing place and made an upgrade to Wilt so that my scroll fits in the handle. I could use some sparring practice to get used to the different weight."

"Aw, are you asking me to go easy on you?"

Bedlam grinned in defiance of the verbal jab, drawing his sword back out, "I'm just warning you that fighting me with this is going to be a bit different than your fights with Brazen. Our weapons aren't the same anymore."

_Neither are we_, went unspoken. Funny what a rough week running ragged, harrowed by loss, will do to a man.

"So what was it that you learned?" Dominic asked, his curiosity piqued.

"It would seem," Bedlam said before grunting as he blocked an overhead swing, "that team RWBY has a relic of their own."

"Aw, so what, us and Blake have matching rings?" Dominic grimaced as he countered the riposte with a block of his own, leaping backwards and landing vertically on the wall like a coiled spring. "That's romantic", he jeered.

"It's a lamp or something."

"So what does it do? Attract moths?" Dominic sprung forward from the wall, shooting forward at Bedlam who chose to dive out of the way, rolling on the floor. "Does it have its own glowing green woman?"

"Not sure!" Bedlam said, then spat out a glob of dust he had eaten during his dive, "but I did get the rundown of it from the youngest human boy, Ozpin, that they're with. He's got that cane we saw on the dead headmaster in the bowels of Beacon." Bedlam leapt up to his feet in time to parry Dominic's aggressive approach, which arrived a moment too late to take advantage of his prone opponent.

"Wasn't the headmaster of Beacon named Ozpin, too?" _What a strange coincidence_, he thought. "What's all this mean for us?"

"First of all, it means I'm going to be heading north to Argus," Bedlam informed while their blades became a whirl of red streaks between their bodies. "The girls think they have to get their relic to the _safety_ of Atlas."

"Hah, now THAT'S a joke."

"I know, right?" Bedlam laughed, "as if Atlas is _safe_. I can't stop them from going, and it'll be easier get a clear shot at Blake while she's on the move, out of the city!" Their swords pressed against one another, as each faunus' muscles strained to overpower the other's. In that regard, at least, they remained evenly matched. "I think the Ozes are related; the young boy Oscar seemed to have Ozpin's cane, so maybe it is a family naming convention like the humans' colour bit. From what I've overheard from them before, his aura isn't much yet. A weak link in their herd..."

"So what does their relic do? How do we take it?"

"He called it the Relic of Knowledge. Apparently it can answer three questions once every one-" he blocked a side-swing, the force knocking his tongue to the side so that he sputtered. He glared at Dominic, who shrugged innocently. "Can answer three questions every one-hundred years, can't see the future because Choice is a thing I guess, and apparently the questions were already used up this century."

The two of them were silent for a minute at their blades rang out against one another, each one of them focused on the task of keeping at bay an opponent who was more perfectly matched to their skills than anyone they had ever fought before.

"So that's what Cinder wanted from Haven."

Another couple minutes passed silently, save for the clanging of Wilt on Wilt. Each Adam was now covered with a sheen of sweat as they anticipated each blow, each counter and parry, with perfect precision. It was like fighting a living mirror.

"I suspect so."

"Brazen will want to-" Dominic began, only to have his sentence broken as Bedlam suddenly and unexpectedly sheathed Dominic's Wilt in Bedlam's version of Blush and whacked Dom in the side of the head with the blunt side of his Wilt once Dom's sword was caught; unable to be brought over to parry the attack. Dominic's grip on Wilt faltered as his aura absorbed the blow but left him momentarily dazed, leaving Bedlam with both swords and advantage.

"I think that's my point," Bedlam smiled, stretching his arms up in a silent cheer of self-congratulatory victory.

Dominic pulled his own Blush out and aimed it at Bedlam's triumphant face, "is it?" His voice was laden with anger, making Bedlam balk and take a step back in confusion.

"It is unless you want to waste ammunition and alert the whole neighbourhood to our presence." Bedlam let Dom's Wilt slide out of Blush, offering it as a concession to the loser.

Dominic seethed, snatching his weapon back and sheathing. How had Bedlam gotten the better of him? He began trying to formulate some excuse for his loss: he'd been training all day and was tired, Bedlam had used a trick to win, and so forth. Nothing that would hold up for long, but he was willing to try.

Before he could begin to make such an argument in defence of his self-humiliation, Bedlam spoke, "hey, don't take it so hard. No matter what happens these days, an Adam always wins right? And it's not like we're really fighting against one another here. One for all and all for me, right?"

Dominic breathed in a long, deep breath. _He's __right, which means I'm right. Nothing to get worked up over. It's just training._ He was better than this, better than losing his head at some petty error. Next time he'd be expecting it, next time he would be better. A trick he could use in the future. That was how he grew, how he improved. It was a lesson, maybe, about how expectations could be wrong and how he should always be working to get better. He stood up, readied his stance, and they began a second round of their spar.

They didn't stop until Brazen showed up, their match still standing at 1-0.

"I see I've not been missed," the white-cloaked clone called from the entrance, "don't stop on my account. I'm just going to get out of my clothes to relax." Brazen seemed to give the sparring pair a wide berth, perhaps wary of the dance of their blades, and went into the office with the MARKETING sign.

When he re-emerged, now clad only in his undershorts, gloves, shoes, and the grimm mask he had put on while changing out of his disguise, Bedlam signalled to cease the spar. "I've got something you need to see." He pressed the handle of his sword, letting his scroll screen pop out. He pressed it a couple times, then offered the blade to the latest arrival. "Have a watch." Bedlam then went over to the desk, where he checked out what was happening in the live video of team RWBY's house.

"What is it?"

"You'll have to watch and see-ee," Bedlam replied in a sing-song voice. Dominic sat down with Brazen to watch it together, since while he had been given the summation of it he figured he may as well watch the actual recording his clone had produced. Bedlam, bereft of his sword, sat away from them with Neo's scroll to immerse himself in a new level of stalking Blake; Dominic smirked as he heard the sound of his forsaken student presently eating a salmon casserole with her human masters. "The one who is speaking at the start is a human boy who has the Beacon headmaster's cane; I started recording just after they began talking about means of getting to Atlas via Argus."

"Hopefully the first option will suffice," Oscar's voice came out of the handle-scroll. Brazen leaned in close to listen while Dom sprawled out on the floor, exhausted from his day of training and sparring. They observed as the voice continued to give an overview of the Relic of Knowledge, with the skill of an academic lecturer capable of putting an entire room of students into a state of drowsy compliance were the topic not so captivating. Once the conversation dwindled down to the group talking about train seating arrangements, Brazen looked up.

"So now seems like a good time to share what I learned today," he said, recalling Hazel's ambit in remaining in Mistral. "I know who that boy is, thanks to our friend Hazel..."

* * *

AN: In my defence, the show never really said _when_ Cinder woke up after getting put on ice. The only timeframe I have to work with there is that she didn't have her meeting with LMM until a month afterwards, because she walked by that poster that said they were last seen a month prior. My headcannon has her lying low for a bit like the Adams are. If I ever rewrite this, I might expand the amount of time it took Taurus to get back to his HQ...  
Also considering doing a more... clean version of this entire story.

Thankfully that is normally overridden by the rest of my proto-brain.


	15. The Clean Chapter

Bedlam stood apart from the other two, languidly swinging his blade as he continued to acclimate to the new weight added onto the hilt of his familiar sword. Brazen, having entered the warehouse smelling like a dumpster full of skunks, had taken the opportunity after watching the surreptitiously acquired video of the wizard's exposition to go shower himself off in the bathroom with the intention of using the time to think over what he had listened to.

"What does this change for us?" Dominic asked.

"I don't know, yet. I need to think about all this more." Brazen replied as he rejoined the clone congregation.

"Is this other relic that Blake has more important to your goal than finding Cinder?"

Brazen put his face into his hands and massaged his temples, running his thumbs up to the base of his horns.

Dominic picked up Neo's scroll. Still night, still dark: nothing of note coming through. He put it back on the desk and looked back at his clone.

"If you want knowledge, then at least your path would be clear." Bedlam said from where he twirled Wilt, "together against Blake, we would be unstoppable. She would have no choice but to crawl meekly back to our side. We promised to take everything from her, and it seems like she cares about this relic more than she cares about her people's plight, more than her family." He sheathed Wilt and smiled. "We'll take it from her together. Force her to realize her only choice is me."

"I have more to tell the two of you." Brazen said, raising his face out of his palms.

Bedlam sauntered over and plopped himself down attentively in front of where Brazen sat. Dominic continued to stay at the desk, his attention split between the spying scroll and Brazen's words.

"I've made progress towards finding Cinder. I detected her today while returning from my meeting with Hazel. Her scent, unforgettable. In the darkness I saw her arm. Grimm, like the monster I saw with Mercury.

"What has she been doing?"

Brazen slouched, ashamed of his failure to actually catch up with his quarry before she disappeared into the city's narrow streets. "I've no idea. She got away."

"But you're certain it was-"

"Yes. It was her."

"So you're going to keep hunting her here instead of following a target we actually have a bead on." Bedlam said, his tone thick with disdain.

"As much as I would enjoy staying in the company of myself, the point of our power is to get as much done as possible, right?" He looked from one Adam to the other, seeking confirmation. "Right?"

Dominic nodded, "right. We have to split up if we have any chance of doing everything we need to do."

Bedlam lay back onto the floor and growled. "I just feel like you two have vague, undefined goals compared to mine. We could knock my goal out first, get it out of the way, then methodically work through yours as a team."

"Having doubts about your ability to persuade Blake to come back on your own?" Dominic and Brazen asked in tandem.

"Never. I'm just trying to form strategy here." Brazen replied, then sighed, "fine, it just feels like Sun was right." The memory of the monkey faunus' taunt during their duel at Haven was still relatively fresh. "Where are all my allies in this? I'm out doing this essentially on my own, while Blake has surrounded herself with humans that will put up a fight when I show up..."

"The faunus of Mistral are hopeful," Dominic muttered, "when they should know better."

"Just wait for a moment when she is on her own, or attack her where she isn't expecting it." Brazen said, "you don't have to just charge in at her the first chance you get."

"Alright well, for the sake of argument and strategy, let's deal with the most pressing bit. If Brazen is still going to be trying to track down Cinder, does he still need Neo now that we have some idea of Cinder's location? Because if she's no longer necessary..." Bedlam brandished Wilt and grew a dark grin on his face.

"Yes." Brazen said automatically.

"Why?"

"I have no idea where Cinder is, I just know she is here and alive."

Bedlam growled with frustration again, "that's soooo useful..."

"So if I'm going to find out more about Cinder, I need someone to meet with a local human information broker named Lil' Miss Malachite. According to Hazel, her bunch of spies are the best in the business, in the city. He also says that she's none too fond of faunus, so I'll be needing Neo to be my face. Also I'm a very wanted person and my bounty is probably worth more to her than the lien I have left."

"Soooo useful," Bedlam repeated. "Your bounty is worth just as much to Neo. What's keeping her from turning you, us, in for the reward, remind me?"

"At least I have a girl that wants me for something," Brazen shot back.

"Yeah, easy money!"

"Or Moonbright," Brazen countered. "You saw for yourself how much she liked _that_ the time she forced it out of you."

Dominic shot them both a withering glower combined with a deep growl to get their attention off each other and onto himself, speaking once he had both of their eyes on him, "alright so Brazen is going to be here in the morning taking care of the captive. Bedlam's got a train to catch if he wants to keep pace with his girlfriend."

The last word gave Bedlam a scowl on his face for a moment, which neither of his clones missed.

"I have reason to be at the station anyways, since it deals with outgoing travel from the city."

"You can just check info about your ship from your scroll, though," Bedlam said.

"I could, yes." Dominic stated, "but since Ghira and the authorities are still on high-alert for Adam Taurus, I'm thinking they might have strict security at the travel station..."

"So if you're with me, you could make sure they don't realize that an Adam Taurus is aboard the train! You can run decoy-duty!" Bedlam finished the thought-process, "see, this is what I'm talking about! Working together for a single goal..."

"Don't get too excited, brother. It sounds like Dom's just making sure you get on the train undetected, not coming with."

Bedlam shrugged, "still, proof of concept..."

"I agree with Bedlam. Our current goals aren't all long-term, so eventually we'll reach a point where we could reform into a single Adam. I say that is less than ideal: the only reason for doing it would be to grant this power to someone else."

"I'm the only one who should have this power." Bedlam and Brazen responded.

"Agreed. So once we finish getting Cinder to explain all of her powers and Salem's role, once we retrieve Blake from her human company, once I reform the Vale branch to counter Ghira's new schism, we can all look forward to working together like you want, Bedlam."

"Can't come soon enough!"

Brazen stood up, "I'm going to go check in on Neo. When did you feed her last?"

Dominic waved his hand dismissively, "I gave her lunch."

Brazen checked his scroll for the time, then exclaimed, "It's well past midnight!"

"Not like she needs much energy, lying there on a table," Bedlam noted with scorn for his enemy.

"She's sick and needs her nutrients! I looked it up on the Net! It says sick humans need rest and fluids and nutrients!"

"You're treating this _human_ better than the SDC ever treated us..." Bedlam uttered, "sick faunus need that, too, not that we ever received it. Your loyalties aren't being divided between your brain and your cock, are they brother?"

"She's a tool for my goal, nothing more." Brazen replied hastily, his blush revealing his uncertainty with the answer and leading to a slow shake of the head from Bedlam.

"Last call to join me on the train with Blake," Bedlam offered.

Dominic took out his scroll, checking the local news rather than giving himselves bickering any more attention. It was far different from when he had been running the Vale camp, where such disagreements out in the woods could lead to bloody fights between his men. At least with Brazen and Bedlam, he wasn't worried about them killing each other because of this argument.

"Anyways, I'm going to make sure she's not dead, I guess." Brazen left in a huff, stomping off.

"Sure." Dominic called after him before he got to the door, then, having viewed the train departure schedule, looked at his remaining clone and said, "it wasn't really his last chance to join you on that train; the earliest train that Blake and her humans could hop on to journey north isn't for another day and a half. So I guess we'll just hang out here? You sleep, then I sleep, then we spar for a day?"

Bedlam nodded, then lay down on the floor to nod off.

"Also, my goal is just as clear as yours is," Dominic said, responding at last to Bedlam's comment that their goals were vaguer than his pursuit of Blake, "mine is just about getting to a place rather than to a person, and the Vale branch will be happy to see me, unlike Blake for you."

Bedlam pretended to already be asleep, so Dominic felt like he won the discussion even if he had lost the earlier sparring match.

"My point," he whispered.

His voice, inaudible to human ears, was still loud enough for Bedlam to hear clearly. "It's not a fair point if you two ganged up on me."

"Get to sleep."

~J~

**NEOPOLITAN**

Something poked her in the gut. She forced her eyes open and saw Adam looming over her. _Oh, he's finally remembered me._ She saw a pudding cup in his hand and was inclined to forgive him: at least he knew something about what a woman wants. She wondered what would happen if Adam went and got himself killed or caught by the cops. Would she starve to death, forgotten in this place? She might be flexible enough to work her shackles with her feet, if it weren't for all the blankets she had been covered in. Her comfy cocoon could easily be her doom if her captor disappeared... like how Torchwick had never come back. She banished the thought to the dark recesses of her brain, resolved to keep a strong face in front of her current adversity. Surely even if Adam died, one of his faunus minions would have enough sense to remember her. Probably the dark-haired one that had the air of a pirate with his hat and eyepatch.

She opened her mouth to accept his offering of pudding on a fork. _Chocolate! Yum._ Her mood instantly improved.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. She rolled her eyes. How long would it take him to realize she couldn't respond? If only her aura would start recharging, instead of being constantly tasked with helping her body overcome the germs that had overwhelmed her. "You'll want to say something, eventually." _Dum-dum! I'd love to say something _right now_, if I could!_ If he only had a brain, he might have figured that out by now. Mouthing words seemed to be just as useless with the faunus dope.

Another scoop of pudding, scraped from the bottom of the cup, signalling the end of her paltry meal.

"You're starting to really smell."

Neo's eyes widened in shock, _how dare he say such a thing to a _lady_!_

He wasn't wrong, though. He also wasn't staying in the room; he quickly left. Neo found herself alone again, the lingering taste of sweet pudding on her tongue.

Being bedridden for so long had left her personal hygiene in a worse state than even she was comfortable with - and that was considering she had made a month-long solo trip to Mistral from Vale through vast, trackless wilderness without access to soap, deodorant, or any other elements of her beauty regimen to which she had become accustomed while living in the luxury provided to her by... by Roman.

Neo felt her eyes welling up with tears, so she forced herself to focus on her outrage at her captor's comment.

It was his own fault, of course, that she offended his fine faunus nose so. If he would simply release her, she could freshen up a little. A lot. She could freshen up a lot. There were layers of filth on her, and if she wasn't in such a state it would be something she would readily seek to rectify of her own initiative.

After she stewed for a little while about her stench and his comments regarding the same, Adam came back into the room with the bucket. He offered her a drink of water from his cupped hands - apparently he could get a fork but not a cup for her to drink from? She didn't mind, though, drinking from his nice strong hands. He seemed to keep them clean. _I guess even idiots know well enough how to wash their hands regularly_. Then he removed the blankets and the pillows from her, freeing her from the warm prison - as well as the smell of being wrapped up like that for however long it had been. She was glad she didn't have faunus senses; Adam retched a little, stifling something attempting to flow up his throat in disgust at the veritable cloud, while tossing the blankets aside. Then he shoved his big red sword - the metal one, not the _interesting_ fleshy one she'd rather see him draw (and hopefully involve her in the matter of re-sheathing!) - into the water bucket and got it bubbling by sending his aura into the fire dust.

"Bath time for the stinky human."

Neopolitan had never been so insulted. Neopolitan had never had so much anticipation for a bath, either.

He pulled off her shoes, unbuttoning them one at a time. She wiggled her toes, noting that she'd need a pedicure at some point on top of everything else. Her nail polish was flaking off and patchy. Honestly it was a miracle it was even still there at all.

Then he peeled down her pants, the fabric cracking when he pulled as if it was made of clay instead of cotton. _Great, now I definitely need new pants_, she thought ruefully as she watched him dangle her broken pants from one hand with disdain. There were actual holes in the legs of the pants, now, not even at the knees, making them look like the terrible pre-torn jeans angsty teens loved to wear thinking it made them look enticing. If Neo had to wear those, it would only make her appear destitute. _Although maybe if I wore those in front of Cinder, it would save having to explain how bad my life has become since she got Torchwick killed_.

"Why is everyone around me wrecking their clothes? I've never seen so many people need new clothes like I have this week. Honestly I wore the same outfit for an entire year..." _And he has the gall to be complaining about my hygiene?_

Then he leaned in, close enough for her to see the fine scratches marring the white of his iconic grimm-style mask. His strong, hairless jawline. If only she had the strength she could press forward to steal a kiss... she felt his hands wrap underneath her, where they deftly unhooked her bra and freed her chest. He pulled away, and she stretched out to enjoy what little new freedom she had. Now that the bra was off, she realized how annoying the clip had been, pressing into her back constantly. She closed her eyes and smiled happily, until she felt his fingers hook into her panties.

Suddenly, pain. After standing motionless as if he was thinking about something, Adam tried to pull off her panties, but the various fluids had congealed and _stuck_ to her in many sensitive places, particularly the stubble that was coming in. It was like pulling a bandaid off her eyeball, except it hurt more over a larger surface. Her eyes shot open and she let out a wheeze, then began kicking at him with her liberated feet.

"Hey! Stop that!" Adam retreated from her, relinquishing his grip on her remaining delicates, "enough of this nonsense. It's not like it's anything you haven't shown... me... already." For a long moment he seemed to consider his own words; _probably thinking about his lingering virginity_. That was his own fault, too. If he had simply let her have her way with him when she had him tied down, he wouldn't have that anymore.

Adam rallied and sat himself down on her legs, keeping her immobile with his own body weight, before once again grabbing the hem of her panties. She shook her head, vehemently opposed to such treatment. _If only I could tell him to do it a bit more slowly, gently_, she wished. He yanked the hem down, bringing tears to her eyes and making her entire body contort from the expected torment. He got off her legs and pulled the panties off the rest of the way, though she scarcely noticed as her mind swirled in torment.

Adam collected the clothing he had removed from her in a pile by the door, adjacent to a pile of blankets that were also filthy. The pillows lay scattered around her table.

"See, that wasn't so bad." Neopolitan would disagree, which she could only manage with the shaking of her head as lines of pain-fuelled tears streaked down the sides of her face. "Now let's get you cleaned up. If I'm going to keep feeding you, I don't want to have to keep smelling your rancid fear."

_Well, at least it is only the fear he doesn't like_, Neo thought distractedly, the pain slowly starting to fade. Maybe that meant he would be amenable to ensuring that she endured less of that emotion in the future. A tropical island beach was certainly less likely to make her afraid, fruity drink in hand...

He brought out the cloth, dunking it into the steamy water. Then he brought it out and drew it across the flat of her stomach, wiping away the sweat and grime and such and replacing it all with a new warmth. He produced a bar of soap, and rubbed that into her belly to make a rich lather. He continued to wipe firmly along the sides of her torso with the cloth while his other hand created a froth of thick white bubbles spreading out from her midriff. He continued up to her arms, scrubbing at each one alternatively with cloth, then soap, then cloth again until the grime she had ignored for weeks sloshed away to the floor drain. As he had been with the removal of her panties, his motions were not gentle nor subtle, but the even firmness of his motions didn't cause her pain. Instead, she found her mind relaxing as the powerful bull-faunus rubbed along her stomach and sides.

Was he going to clean her completely like this? Would he clean her back? _If he tries to clean my back, he would have to loosen my bindings. Maybe even release me, attempt to rebind me so that I lay flat on my stomach with butt sticking up into the air_? She did like sleeping on her stomach more than on her back; maybe that would help her recharge her aura (and semblance) more quickly. That was assuming she didn't manage to use the flip to escape.

_Sure, Neo. Let's see you escape while sick and without aura while Adam's on top of you and who-knows-how-many of his animal goons are outside._ He could have dozens of heavily armed faunus terrorists on the other side of that door by now; for all she knew the only thing keeping them from coming in to _brutally ravage her_ was Adam; he saw some value in her and was probably protecting his latest hostage from his people's natural instinct to lash out at the better species._ Even if I do get out of this room, it could be the middle of the night, pitch black out there. I would be surrounded by the animals without even knowing it, before I knew it._ She had no idea how long it had been since she had found herself in his clutch. It could have been a week! The only consolations were the eye-candy - Adam only wore his mask and boxer shorts in here, to her ongoing delight and frustration: her hands were tied up - and the fact that he seemed intent on finding Cinder, too. If he was here then at least there was as good a chance as before that the object of her eventual vengeance was still in the city. So yes: Neo had substantive reasons for doubting in her ability to escape from Adam, even if he did see fit to unleash her momentarily.

Less concerned about politeness than about not being punished for her behaviour she kept her mouth shut to contain a coughing fit, intent on not coughing up into his face. He finished off wiping her fingers, regularly dunking the cloth into the bucket to rinse it and soak it with fresher, warm water again. He'd washed her stomach and her arms, and her sides in betwixt. She stared wide-eyed up at him, curious as to what was next.

His mouth was a thin, inexpressive line as he draped the cloth over her right breast. She smiled with excitement as the warmth spread down to her ribs, opening her mouth to release a slight sigh. With the same sturdy grip he had used on her so far, he fondled her breast with a hand easily large enough to fully encompass it despite her proud bust: squeezing and rubbing along it while soapy bubble-laden water ran in rivulets down to the metal table surface. She closed her eyes and tried to enjoy the moment as best she could while his motions and the coarseness of the cloth created a fantastic friction against her tender nipple.

_Warm summer sand, the sunlight gleaming off the beach and the waves while gulls chatter in the air. My toned faunus-pet servant at my beck and call, bringing me pineapple punch mixed with soda pop, some tasty cheese on a tray..._

Neo moaned involuntarily, and tried to convince herself that it was caused by her illness while the cloth moved around in strong circles over the surface area of her breast before moving over to give the left one similar treatment. He put the cloth in the bucket, gave it a rinse, then brought a fresh dose of warmth to her heart. Neo stifled the moan this time, hoping that Adam wouldn't notice her blush through her fever. He had to be teasing her like this on purpose! Her mind wandered again.

_Palm trees swaying in a warm breeze that catches my long locks and splays it out into the air as I revel in the serenity of an equatorial paradise..._

Before she knew it, the bliss ended and her tits were evidently clean enough for Adam to move his ministrations lower to her legs; she hoped that he had spent longer than necessary exploring her, though she had sort of zoned out for a bit of it. He began at her toes, where he took a moment to assess her toenails. He nodded, then began scrubbing away at her flaking polish paint until they had returned to their natural hue, all the while running his fingers in between her toes. His digits and hers entwined, twisting around each other in a sea of cleaning froth, sending lovely tingles up her body.

"A single word could do wonders for you," Adam said. Neo wondered what he meant: she was pretty relatively with how this was turning out. Adam bent down under the table and picked up one of the small pillows he must have, at some point, gone out and bought to make her imprisonment here more comfortable. With remarkable dexterity and precision, he drew a single feather from the object. He used the pillow to dry her foot before tossing the light object towards the doorframe, then brought the feather to her sole. "Have you made a decision about my offer, yet? Will you help me find Cinder?"

Neo nodded, yes.

"Well, that's something, anyways." Adam said smugly. "It doesn't do much to resolve the underlying trust issues or make up for your silent treatment, though."

_Trust issues?_ Neo thought irately, _you're running your strong hands all over my naked body and we both have the same goal, what's not to trust? Oh, right, the capturing you and minor beating I gave you. Bygones, bygones!_

"How about you fix all that: tell me how you got here and who knows you're in town? Maybe why you attacked me?"

Answers to those questions would require more than a shrug or a nod. Without her semblance or a free hand to write with, Neo had little else in her arsenal for communication. So she used what she had left and gave him a sultry wink.

"Well, if you're still not willing to chat, maybe I can... convince you with more physical efforts?"

_Torture? _Neo feared, gulping as she envisioned needles and knives being bared against her unmarred skin.

_Sex?_ Neo hoped, blushing as she envisioned his member being brought out on display before letting her _taste_ him again.

The feather wiggled against her foot.

"Tell me, Neo: are your feet ticklish?"

Neo had no voice, yet she longed to scream. Somehow, against all odds, this faunus had discovered her secret vulnerability. Somehow he had found the one thing that had previously only been known to Roman Torchwick, the thing that would make her do anything in her power to stop it were she not powerless on the table. Realizing his advantage, he used it immediately and without regard to Neo's dignity. Without regard for her feelings! Roman had been right all along about the faunus, and her present captor demonstrated that he was no exception.

Adam Taurus was a monster.

Neo's wide eyes sought out her boots. Lying forgotten on the floor by the closed door, what protection did they offer her now? When she escaped this living nightmarish hell, they would be brutally punished for their failure. She kicked and struggled, but he was too strong - so in control and dominant; he held her foot still as the feather was set against her. She bucked against the cord around her waist, she pulled at those keeping her arms restrained but to no avail. In ragged bursts, her soundless laughter and wheezing escaped her lips and contorted her face into one of nonconsensual delight.

Adam hummed, "it seems you _are_ a bit ticklish there, maybe. Not enough to get a real laugh out of you yet, though." The feather moved away, giving her a blessed moment of reprieve. "How about your stomach?" He let the feather flicker over her freshly-cleaned belly, but she bit down on her lip and looked away from his glare because she was ashamed of her weakness. "No, nothing there." The feather moved away again, and suddenly she realized her mistake: she wished she had pretended that the stomach had been ticklish. Now the feather approached under her armpit, involuntarily completely exposed because of how she had been restrained on the table.

She shook her head, opened her mouth, strained to point at her mouth with her shackled hand, anything to get it across to the _dum-dum_ looming over her that she. Could. Not. Speak.

_Please, no! Anything but that!_

She mouthed 'No' over and over again, hoping against reason that the masked imbecile would understand. Maybe her nudity distracted him from paying attention to the message she attempted to communicate with her hands and lips, or maybe he saw and was just now living up to his reputation for cruelty. In any case, the feather lighted down on the skin of her underarm and began, ever so slightly, to wiggle.

It was too much, far too much, and as she began with more vigour than before to buck and kick and lash out at her captor by any means available to her, she realized with dread that the water she had drank from his large hands had run right through her. Coupled with the tickling, it was certainly inevitable that-

If she just held onto her dignity for a bit longer-

Certainly she could-

Failure.

Relief, coupled with further shame.

_How will I ever live this down?_ Neo thought as she clamped her eyes shut. Perhaps if she could not see, the world would simply disappear. Maybe if she held her breath, she could just die on the spot.

"Ah, that's always sort of gross." Adam said with disgust as he backed away from his new fountain, "guess you can hold in your chuckles but not that. Glad I didn't wash that yet and hey! Don't piss all over your feet. I did clean those!" He clucked his tongue with disapproval and muttered "you're liable to dehydrate yourself at this rate..."

Neo couldn't tell if the tears running down her cheeks were from the shame of turning her body into an impromptu water feature, or from the tickling session. Her entire body was numbed from the sensory overload Adam had subjected her to already. She silently pleaded to whatever gods might be listening to make it stop, but, just like every other time she received no succor from her prayer.

"People always see prisoners in media making a break for it after persuading their captor to let them use the bathroom. I guess this is why some people would fall for that line." Adam said, tipping the table up so that her mess ran off to drip down into the floor drain. "Well, if you're still not going to talk then don't expect to be let out to use the bathroom anytime soon."

He watched the drain dispassionately, "maybe I should give you more to drink?"

A monster, worse than any of the news had ever been able to describe. Here he was, lording over her with all his undeserved freedom, plotting to force her to humiliate herself for his own amusement. She wished she could speak. It would make her life so much easier.

Cinder had used her pretty words and threats to cajole Roman into working for her. It was so easy to get things your way when you had a voice. _How I want to stab her_, Neo seethed.

"I think I got most of you stink off..." Adam said, "except for one notable exception."

_My back?_ Neo wondered, poised to make her escape, despite the odds against her, so as not to be forced to endure another callous tickle session. _Even without aura, at this point whatever scraps of honour remain to me demand that I try._ To stay here willingly, to be forced to undergo anymore such horrors, would be unbearable.

Adam slapped the wet cloth down onto her, eliciting a deep moan from her before she could stifle it - not that she had any dignity left now to protect.

_Oh right, my sticky snatch_, she realized. Still wet with urine, viscid from her experiences and lewd fantasies, surrounded by wisps of unsightly hair from a month of neglect, it was definitely filthier than her back in every sense. Adam used the freshly rinsed cloth and the hand within it to begin stroking down from her clit until he came to the epicentre of the musty smell and fluids. Peering down the length of her torso apprehensively, Neo watched as he slowly dipped his index finger, wrapped in the cloth, to slide down and up repeatedly at the moist fleshy crevice he found there. The other hand brought the soap to bear on her, and she couldn't stifle the gasp, or the moans that followed it, as he began a thorough job cleaning her crotch.

Neo had never been particularly religious, though she did foster hope that there was some sort of afterlife whereupon she would see Torchwick again. Beyond that meeting, though, she had never given much thought. As Adam inserted his finger up to the first joint into her sex, she hoped that if there was a heaven it would feel like this moment. All negative opinions she had of him suddenly forgotten as he touched her most sensitive area warmly, gently. Her mind seemed to transform into a useless jelly, content to let the beastly demihuman treat her like an object while she imagined detailed scenarios where she would sate her growing lust with his body.

_Taking a restaurant hostage at gunpoint with his faunus mooks, then having him fuck me while I'm bent over the maître d's podium. _His hand pressed against her from both sides, squeezing her labia tight around his middle finger, making it puff out between his long digits.

_Jumping off a bullhead at max altitude and making out with him at terminal velocity until we drop out of the clouds._ Warm water streamed from the cloth down her thighs while his attentive fingers swirled around her clit, sending her eyes rolling back into her head in bliss.

_Invading some rich snob's house, tying up the snooty occupants and having dirty sex in the master bedroom while trying on all the lady's pretty necklaces to find a new one for my collection._ The finger gave her much-desired stimulation as it cautiously entered into her, warm and soft in the cloth. _Deeper_, she wished she could beg. To her dismay, the finger quickly retreated out; by the end of his full exploration of her folds with the cloth and soap, she was humming a toneless tune of giddy joy and feeling slightly dizzy.

Despite his valiant efforts made towards cleaning her up, the liquids running down to pool between her legs weren't entirely soap and water, nor urine; instead they represented a fresh mess.

She was so zoned out she scarcely noticed as Adam grabbed a handful of her hair and squeezed it, making it crackle and bend. He looked down at her pensively, then took the bucket out of the room. As he opened the door, she heard metal rapidly striking against metal. _What are they doing out there? Building something? Is someone fighting?_ It was too dark to see and the door closed before she could garner any further clues about what was happening in the outside world.

The world beyond her on this table and Adam doing what he willed to her body. Beyond the sound-dampening walls and the floor drain guzzling her shame and letting it flow away into the sea.

Neo lay on the table, damp and exposed. She coughed, then began to shiver nervously. _Dammit, I can't get sick again!_ She slid her body to the side of the table, letting her leg dangle over so that her toes could blindly grasp around for something to cover herself with. A pillow, a blanket, anything. Nothing. She slid to the other side and tried there, where fortune was kinder to her and rewarded her efforts with a dry pillow. Clasping it between her toes, she raised it up and relied on her flexibility to get the small round piece onto her body. Just as she got it over her chest the door opened again and Adam ponderously stepped through, the sounds of what was definitely melee combat following him in before he shut the door behind his entrance. She spent a brief second marvelling at how good a job the TorchQuik people had done at making this room soundproof; a bomb could go off on the street and she'd probably only feel the vibration through the ground.

As a finale Adam had gotten a fresh bucket of water, bereft of the grime that had come to fill the previous one, and held it under where her head lay on the table so that he could wet her hair and let it soak in the lukewarm bath-bucket, running his fingers through her locks and firmly rubbing her scalp with his palms. She didn't even try to hold back her satisfied moans as he rubbed the sweet spot behind her ears, soap lubricating his grip on her sensitive earlobes.

As he washed her hair and patted her head, he whispered to her the three words she longed to hear.

Three words that made everything she had suffered through seem worthwhile. Three words that sealed her faith in her faunus ally.

Adam Taurus might be a beast, but Neo could see the value in taming him. Soon, her semblance would be good-to-go and she would be able to quickly remedy her present plight. Soon she would be free again to wreck her special brand of havoc and together she and Adam would bring Cinder's precious world crumbling down around her ugly smug face before retiring to a tropical vacation forever. While she smiled dreamily, still a bit dizzy from his ministrations, he told her what he needed her to do for him, inquiring if she was up to the task. Not like she could give a verbal answer. _I wonder if this Lil' Miss is related to the twins?_ Neo thought as she nodded along while her partner spoke.

"_I spotted Cinder._"

~J~

**DOMINIC**

They watched Brazen scurry back into Neo's padded cell and shared a quick laugh.

"What do you think he's doing to her?"

Dominic rolled his head back and stared up at the ceiling, "I can't even think of why he needs that much water in there."

"Maybe he's waterboarding her?" Bedlam posited hopefully.

"Nah," Dominic responded, "he's trying to get her on board team Adam."

"Why doesn't he just go to that human information broker and chop off her fingers until she tells him what he wants to know?"

"Because unless she already has the intel, it severely limits the formation of an ongoing relationship with the broker that would supply him with the info at a later time." Dominic surmised from his own reasoning, then added "but once Cinder's on our side I'd probably tie up that loose end."

"Ah," Bedlam realized, "at which point having an extra minion on hand might come in handy." He imagined the human spy's eyes wide with surprise as an Adam gleefully chopped off a few excess limbs to make a point. At which point... "so once he's dealt with the broker, what of Neo then?"

"Probably keep her around; she has a useful semblance, among other... features." Bedlam didn't want to spend too much time considering the meaning of that. Dominic noticed. "Just because you're all on about Blake doesn't mean either of us are. In fact, in means we aren't, I think."

"But, that ass. Her hair! Perfection." Bedlam said, stowing his weapon while taking out his own scroll.

Dominic threw a wary glance his twin's way, "are you stalking her on social media again?"

"It's not stalking..." Bedlam argued defensively, "I'm just keeping myself informed. Besides, you're the one watching her on video." Bedlam wasn't wrong; after the spar, Dominic had gone to the desk and taken watch over Neo's spy-scroll.

"Yeah, I'm watching it because we have no way of recording this to skip to anything relevant."

Blake and her Schnee teammate were quietly sitting on a couch, side-by-side, probably waiting for someone to arrive by the look of it. Weiss was fixing up her abundant hair while Blake was checking her scroll - more than likely updating her social media account. _Come on, Blake,_ Dominic thought angrily as he watched the scene, _she's right beside you. One unexpected strike from Gambol Shroud and you would have struck a great blow for all of my comrades who died in her family's mines..._

_No, for fuck's sake, don't lean against her comfortably! She's our _enemy_!_

Dominic wished he could just storm up through the city there and then; alas, he had to keep Bedlam company or some such excuse. As he thought about it further, and continued to watch Blake sit so casually next to Weiss, he began to consider that maybe he should go for a stroll...

"She just posted 'so proud of my father for his work with the Mistral government'," Bedlam reported, the message being intended for the members of the faunus traitor-militia but accessible by anyone with a fake account. "I think she's meeting with her father today?"

"Then this might be interesting to watch. She's there with the Schnee, so maybe they'll say something about the SDC's operations in Mistral or beyond."

Of course, if Ghira was going to see his daughter then that meant his armed entourage would be nearby. _Guess going for a walk is out of the question after all_, Dominic pouted, _which is fine I guess; I didn't really think about how such brash action would effect my goals to re-mobilize my forces in Vale..._

Blake asked Weiss if she smelled something different in the house, asking if her human companion was using some new Atlesian perfume. The pale human shook her head. Blake looked around perplexed for a moment sniffing the air, but returned to playing with her scroll after the human shot her a deprecating look and Blake saying that 'it was probably nothing'. Dominic shook his head at the sight of Blake being sense-shamed by her 'friend'.

Brazen came out of the chamber, an unusual spring in his step. _ Seems like he made some progress_. He lay down on the ground and muttered about being tired, going to sleep. Dominic smiled at his self, patted Brazen on the head condescendingly which the clone responded to by swatting at his arm.

Bedlam slowly drew Wilt, letting the screech of the metal linger to garner Dominic's attention, "ready to go another round?"

Dominic nodded. Better than watching his ex cuddle with his foe all morning. He put Neo's scroll beside Brazen; if anything interesting happened he could be in charge of that for a few minutes while the brothers sparred again. He raised his blade, and Bedlam charged at him.

~J~

"Welcome back, Mr Belladonna," Weiss greeted with a polite curtsy. Ghira nodded respectfully and entered the house, followed by four militia troops and a Mistrali adjutant who had been assigned to protect Ghira and his people. Both parties understood that the huntsman-trained fellow was as much there as a spy as a bodyguard, but the concern over the blatant invasion of his privacy was secondary to the good work Ghira was doing for his people in this kingdom.

"A pleasure to see you again, Miss Schnee." Ghira took a seat on a couch. As he did he noted a couple packed bags on the other, between which his long-estranged-but-no-longer beloved daughter sat. "The house is secure, I presume?"

"Of course dad. The guards you've had posted around day and night have done their job wonderfully."

"Excellent," Ghira held up his hand and fanned out his fingers. His people accepted the signal to disperse and went back out the door; the human adjutant remained standing near the staircase going up to Blake's team's bedrooms. Once the extra ears were gone, Ghira continued, "seems to me that you're getting packed up. How many berths on the ship back home do I need for you and your friends?"

Weiss took a seat on the chair and looked at her teammate.

"My team has a... mission. Ruby and Yang's uncle, Qrow, is going to be chaperoning us as an experienced huntsman, but it means I can't stay with you and mom again for a little while."

Ghira looked over at the human huntsman in the kitchen, currently unconscious at the table there with an empty flask on the floor under his chair. He looked back at his daughter, the light of his life and hope for the future of his people.

One of his eyebrows rose, thick with concern.

"...and we can take care of each other, too! Don't worry Dad, all four of us are strong now and a good team, we've come so far since we started at Beacon."

"That you have, Blake." Ghira settled back against the couch. "Will you be returning to Mistral, to Menagerie, any time soon?"

"We're not sure. The mission is important, and sort of..." she looked at the adjutant.

Weiss spoke up, "The parameters of the mission are subject to change. We intend to oppose Cinder's remaining allies, to stop them from continuing her evil work across Remnant, as best we can, for the benefit of all people."

"Speaking of her allies..." Ghira straightened in his seat, "I'm sorry to say we've had no luck tracking Adam after he left the Fang's cavern headquarters. We know he entered, but found no evidence that he left. Which leads our trackers to conclude that-"

"An army of grimm wouldn't have stopped Adam, dad. That's just what he'd want us to think."

"Some would call that paranoia. But I agree, of course, otherwise I would have ended my search. The Mistral government is also keen to not leave his fate to chance, but they have in their employ a man who has a peculiar semblance that lets him track an individual he is familiar with. We're not sure if he just isn't familiar enough with Taurus or if the trail really did end in that cave, but that is as far as we were able to follow. I worked closely with, trained, Adam for years. If anyone could have survived and evaded our search net, it's him. He'll have gone dark, hiding in the shadows; despite his desire for glory and self-aggrandizement, the shadows will always be his natural element. I'm still concerned he may already be lurking in these city streets. If he kills me, he would just make a martyr and demonstrate that his ideology doesn't safeguard faunus rights and lives. Besides, he knows my semblance so I doubt he'd risk it. If he comes after you-"

"Dad! Don't talk like that!" Blake admonished. "He promised to take everything I cared about away from me, and he's not one to forget a threat. Make sure you keep yourself and mum, and Ilia and all the others who were brave enough to come from Menagerie, safe. As for the target he's put on my back since I left his side, it won't matter. He has no idea that I'm leaving and by the time he does, we'll already be far from here. He'll have to play keep-up and he'll never get a shot at me or my friends. Just promise me that you'll keep yourself, mom and Ilia safe."

"What about that boy, Sun?"

Blake blushed and waved her hand dismissively, "don't worry about Sun. He's pretty tough and his team competed in the Vytal tournament."

Weiss let out a short giggle.

"You have my word, then. I'll make sure they all stay safe. When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning from the travel hub."

"So soon..." Ghira turned to the human adjutant and waved him over, "tell the Crown Prince that my people will begin our preparations to be leaving your hospitality the day afterwards, assuming my daughter's departure is without incident."

"The less people who know, the better, of course," Weiss insisted, "if any of Cinder's allies are waiting in the wings, the less they know the easier it will be for us." No need to give up the benefits of operating in secrecy when their enemies could be anywhere in Mistral. "We thought about laying a trap for them, but after some discussion we thought it best to just try to outrun them before they get wise to our heading."

"Of course Miss Schnee. These arrangements will be between us and the Crown Prince." The man typed the message into his scroll, "though if we schedule a heavier-than-typical military presence at the travel hub, for no particular reason, I doubt you would be concerned?"

Weiss looked at Blake, who shrugged. "That might be best. Just because we don't plan to make it a trap, doesn't mean it shouldn't still be one if they do somehow show up to stop us."

The adjutant nodded.

"So what will you do from here, dad?"

"I have to get the prisoners we took at Haven back to Menagerie, rebuild their optimism and faith that things are going to get better if we strive towards peace working alongside the humans. I will send envoys to Vacuo and Vale to contact the branches of the Fang there; hopefully the transition of leadership will go smoothly. With the borders to the north sealed, I'll just have to wait to make contact with our people there."

"Actually, we might be able to help with that." Weiss said, "our first destination is Argus, with the hope of making contact with General Ironwood by making use of the influence of my family name."

"Dad, if you could give me the name of whoever is in charge of the Atlas brotherhood..."

Ghira narrowed his gaze and focused on Weiss.

"She's my teammate and friend, dad. Just because she isn't a faunus, just because her family has stained human-faunus relations for the past half-century, doesn't mean she doesn't understand us and want to help us towards a better future."

"I assure you, Mr Belladonna, any information about this you give us will be used only to advance human-faunus relations in Atlas for-"

"We have to let the Fang in Atlas know about the achievements we've had here in Mistral." Blake interrupted.

"Fine, fine, I'll tell you girls what I know. Granted, my information might be a bit dated, but-" Ghira paused and turned to regard the adjutant. "Would you mind giving us a bit more _space_?" The adjutant had been slowly drawing nearer to the trio, but now his eyes flared open and he opened his mouth to make a retort.

Ghira growled, a low, deep, rumbling sound that made the marrow in the bone quiver. The adjutant's words caught in his throat, then his mouth closed. His eyes shot to the bottom of the couch Blake and Weiss (whose eyes were wide and her body rigid) occupied, lingered for a moment, then shot to the front door to which he scurried away through with surprising speed. Once the door slammed shut, Ghira turned around back to Blake and Weiss. "My apologies, Miss Schnee. Seek out a woman named Olanna Thyme. Her method-of-choice was always focused on deep-cover agents, infiltration. Ilia was one of her favourites a decade ago because of the girl's position at a human school, with her well-positioned human friends... shame about her parents' tragic deaths. Such a tragedy. When that happened, Ilia revealed herself and lost... everything. Olanna lost interest her, so I brought the youngster to train with Sienna, Adam and Blake. Olanna and Sienna always got along well; I see no reason why Sienna wouldn't have rewarded her favour for Thyme with continued support and the continued leadership position in the northern continent."

"We'll make sure your friend Olanna is updated on affairs outside of Atlas, sir." Weiss assured him. "While I may have been disowned by my father and cut out of the family business, I think I might still have some influence with the General and others of high standing in Atlas. I will try to make sure that people there know that peace is possible for all of us."

"Peace has to be our priority with villains like Cinder on the loose," Blake added.

"She's a sheep faunus; fond of the old saying, 'a wolf in sheep's clothing'. Always refused to be treated by her faunus traits, hating the idea that they defined her, so she insisted on a personality that was the complete opposite of what people would expect of her appearance. Maybe that will help you track her down. Maybe it will remind you to stay on your guard around her, too. She's anything but docile, and quick to fight if the situation calls for it." Ghira blushed slightly, "she sure took me down a peg or four when I was up there."

"Don't worry dad, we'll make sure to be on our best behaviour with your old girlfriend," Blake said with a leering smile as her father began a flushed rebuttal, his eternal love for Kali, and so forth.

Miles below their conversation, Bedlam smiled just as wickedly as Blake. "Don't worry, Ghira. Your secret is safe with us." He felt like he had a sneaking suspicion about who the listening device he had destroyed had belonged to after having watched the Mistralian envoy. He poked the body of his sleeping clone with the heel of his foot. "Hey Dominic, I'm going to be out of town so I can't deal with it, but there's something I think you might be interested in knowing about..."

Maybe some dirt on the local human authority's corruption would put a smile on Dominic's face since Bedlam had soundly won yet another spar before Dominic had finally succumbed to sleep, keeping Bedlam in the lead of their not-a-competition._ He's just sore that my weapon modification gave me an edge_. Bedlam also thought that, of the three of them, he had the most combat experience now. He had been the one who carried the team out of the White Fang headquarters through a horde of grimm.

_It doesn't matter how strong I am, I just need to be strong enough to do what's necessary._

He looked again at the scroll, watching Ghira and Weiss as they spoke about the SDC's business practices in Mistral. Blake sat quietly beside her friend, sharing Bedlam's disinterest in stock projections and acquisition deployments when they didn't involve faunus, dust, or armaments. Hearing Weiss admit that there was a 'hard-light dust ceiling' in the SDC for faunus employees that kept them from reaching upper management positions wasn't surprising. It wasn't like anyone actually had ever thought otherwise; if what Brazen had learned from Hazel was true, then Lionheart's rise in Mistralian academia had probably been due to Ozma's influence more than society's acceptance of the deceased man's talent for teaching.

Blake just kept quiet and tried to smile along.

"I'm coming for you, my love," he whispered, "and nothing in the world will stop me from getting you."

* * *

There's all these things you don't think about when taking hostages that become problematic later on.  
Not that I know from experience or anything.

I feel like this story might be solitary in its exploration of a relationship between Neo and Adam as characters in the fanfic-verse. Probably because RT made it pretty clear that Adam was all about Blake. I like Blake as a character (obviously; kinda writing fanfic for a series here, probably wouldn't do that if I disliked the cast), but I'm not writing a Blake-x-Adam bit here. This story is about Adams killing folks, taking names, and trying some new angles out.

And if you're still reading this, thanks. With real-life issues I've had a lot less time for writing and being at home and such, so I feel sort of bad about the pace of my chapter updates.

~J~


	16. Not Paying Fare

**DOMINIC**

Balancing the tavern-provided spoon on his finger over the empty bowl that had contained his breakfast, Dominic kept an eye through the dingy window of the establishment on the street. The proprietor of the place had retreated back into the kitchen to chat up what sounded like a timid chef about mundane intrapersonal gossip. While his ears picked up most of the conversation, it lacked anything that piqued his interest. What had managed to obtain that interest was Bedlam's choice in attire.

"It should have fit," Dominic complained.

"I'm just lucky Brazen managed to not wreck his clothes," Bedlam replied, examining Adam Taurus' original outfit that he had taken out from the room where his clone had stashed the precious well-fitting clothes. "Maybe he'll like the clothes you bought more than I did."

_You're the same person, so I'm going to go out on a limb and say that he won't,_ Dominic thought glumly as his lack of fashion sense was assailed over and over again by himself. It was disconcerting. _Then again, we did order differently for breakfast so maybe our tastes have already diverged_, he spared a glance at Bedlam's salad.

"Well if he gets Neo working for us then I guess she can make the exchange." With his hands, he then signed [I guess if we have a style, it is being dressed up like a doll by girls].

"Does he like her?"

Dominic shrugged. "Probably? She is pretty - for a human - and pretty powerful. She caught you, right?"

"She ambushed me!"

"Hey, whatever works is power." Dominic tried scraping his bowl with the spoon in the hopes of finding some remnant of sustenance there, but his parfait had been fully consumed. [So what is the plan for the train?]

[I get on the train, you run distraction if necessary. Once I'm on, I'll stow away and wait for an opportune moment to get Blake for some valuable alone-time.]

_What a solid plan. No holes in that!_

"I keep getting interrupted when having a conversation with her," Dominic agreed, "by the distance between trains after she severed the cars, by that blonde partner of hers-"

"Yang Xiao Long," Bedlam reminded. He hadn't spent days spying on their enemies to not know names.

"-and then by the monkey and Ghira up top," Dominic concluded. "What kind of distraction do you think will be best?"

"Can't make a plan for that yet, just stick close with me until we have better intel on the area. So I guess the real plan is to scout out the travel hub and see what I'm up against." He shoved his spork into his bowl, still not finished his 2AM breakfast. They had lots of time before the late-morning train departure, as is proper when planning action against hostiles. _Ghira always said that imprudent action costs more to remedy than inaction_. While the pacifist and downright capitulatory attitude had been what had led Sienna and Adam to push him out of the leadership of the Fang, it still held true at times.

Dominic watched outside as nothing continued to happen; it was too early and too out-of-the-way to get any traffic. The light drizzle and resultant fog didn't do much for it either. _I suppose the less people we encounter on our travel to the hub, the better._ His disguise was top-rate, of course, but Bedlam's hood and blindfold would not do much if anyone recognized the outfit he wore from the now-famous video of his defeat at Haven.

"On the point of imprudent action..." Bedlam began, and Dominic again felt how strange it was to be in the presence of someone whose mind worked so similarly to his. "I asked Brazen this: do you think we used it too soon?" He flipped out his middle finger, the damage to his cuticle hidden by his glove. "What should we do with the last charge?"

"No. We did what we had to do. This is all going to work out, and I'm happy to have both of you with me. I know we all are thankful for someone trustworthy now more than ever." Dominic said with the sincerity one can only have with oneself, "as for the last charge, I say we save it for a sunny day. When we're all reunited."

_Or when there's only one of us left_, went unsaid but both understood that it was always a possibility in their line of work. _If ever the relic should manifest on one of our hands, we'll know that the others have been killed_. Dominic watched the rain splatter rhythmically on the street as he considered how he would react if that ever happened.

He felt like he might use the relic's power to lash out spitefully at whoever was responsible for killing his mirror selves. He assumed himselves would act in a similar way if they found the ring on their fingers.

"Bedlam, can you do me a favour?" Dominic asked. Bedlam cocked his head to the side, then nodded slowly. "Keep a journal on your scroll. Nothing extensive or damning, just enough that if anything happened to you I could figure out what went down if I found your scroll. I think our scrolls might be connected: they don't have a shared aura like we do, but they still were created by the same magic we were. When our scrolls are on a shared network like the Mistral City grid, we can see our search histories and change the background image of our FlamingOS account."

"Yeah, that makes sense I guess. We only have the one account, so each scroll would link to that."

"Could be an advantage. When my aura shattered after your capture, Brazen and I were able to use the background photo to communicate that we were each alive. So we knew that it was you that was in trouble before we would have without the..." he stuck out his middle finger.

"If the humans ever get the CCT working again, it would be an easy way of keeping in touch with one another maybe?" Bedlam nodded, "yeah, that would be nice. Otherwise I'll have a real task trying to track one of you down after I've gotten her back."

"Vale would be a good place to start that search, if you decide to haul her out my way." The pair left the warmth of the tavern, "oh, and speaking of being able to see your search history on our duplicate scrolls..."

Bedlam's face flushed.

~J~

The sobbing human's face grimaced one last time in pain as Dominic wrenched Wilt out of his guts. Bedlam threw a second body into a convenient dumpster in the damp alley. Dominic removed his hand from the man's mouth, no longer having to silence his victim. The human had bit down on the hand, but aura had let him ignore the pathetic attack.

"Ugh, this one is so much heavier," Bedlam moaned as he hefted the body into the bin, "fucking hell they sure feed them."

Dominic dragged his over to the dumpster. "Well, we learned what we needed from these shits," he stretched, then leaned over to lift the corpse into the garbage with its peers before the gushing blood pool spilled out of the alleyway and attracted undue attention. "Seventeen - sorry, sixteen - teams running patrols around the hub on security detail, on top of whatever normal security for the Mistral Central Station is." He lifted up the body and dumped it on top of the other two, where the combined weight of the three dead guys popped a garbage bag. _Well, it's going to smell terrible anyways._ Dominic wondered if he and Brazen were going to take any flak for murdering these guys rather than doing the job stealthily. He brandished one of the soldier's scrolls, "we should at least be able to avoid the military patrols by watching their movements on this." He connected his own scroll to it, telling one of the FlamingOS apps to take off the new scroll's location-tracking features. No reason why the other patrols should have an easy time knowing where their missing comrades' missing ordinance was in the city. It wasn't a long-term measure, but it wasn't like he was going to keep the scroll on him for longer than the operation ran - several hours, he expected.

"That will make our morning a lot easier on us, and at least they don't have anything other than foot-soldiers," Bedlam said while searching through the soldier's wallets, taking out lien and identification cards as he found them, "nothing like that Atlesian prison barge with aura-detecting wall-mounted turrets, mined floor panels and prototype spider droids."

"Yeah, that was an awful mission," Dominic recalled, "but hey, when we pulled off leading that one Sienna gave us command of the Vale branch. Wasn't that a silver lining."

"Oh yeah, I'm so happy with how that has all turned out for me. Blake disgusted with my methods, chucking bodies into a dumpster in the middle of a human city, talking to myself constantly..."

"Hey, I'm not crazy just because I'm talking to myself constantly!"

"That's what a crazy person would say, though."

"You're... not wrong."

The pair laughed, then closed the lid of the corpse-filled dumpster as quietly as they could. The sun was beginning to peek through the clouds on the horizon: dawn was upon them and they had much more work to do.

Dominic looked at the sunrise, feeling the warmth even in his branded eye underneath the stylish eyepatch. "With our disguises, we should be able to make it in without trouble so long as we don't cause a scene. We can sneak in through an employee entrance and lay low. I'll mull about in the passenger area until the train leaves. If anyone is on the lookout for you, I'll make sure they only find me."

"Hiding enough to appear to be hiding, but not enough to actually hide from anyone on lookout," Bedlam assessed, "but what if they come gunning for you?"

"In a crowd of civilians? I think they might try to limit damage that way. If they try to relocate the civvies, I'll just follow along. Otherwise I'll just be present enough to keep their eyes on me until the train leaves."

"Hey, if humans are good for one thing it is that they make good human shields." Bedlam seemed to be pretty upbeat, as far as Dom could tell. Maybe it was the fact that he was finally getting some momentum: chasing Blake out of her current safe haven - no pun intended - or getting away from Neo. Maybe he just liked the fact that the plan was coming together smoothly.

Within half an hour, Dominic found himself sitting on a bench in a brightly lit atrium as people strutted about without a care in the world beyond their means of transportation arriving on time. He spared a glance at the back of the reinforced train. Bedlam would have to get on that somehow, and Dom's job was to make sure nobody noticed him do it.

Team RWBY and their entourage came into the atrium, at the far end on the lower level. His fellow red-heads seemed like they had just eaten bags of sugar: Ruby bouncing around, freely using her semblance to zip around in public; Nora almost vibrating as her mouth ran non-stop to her companions. Ruby pointed at the hub's gift shop, and Weiss shook her head dismissively. Ruby stuck out her tongue and quickly left the protection of her herd, which proceeded to walk along until they found an empty set of benches where they parked their luggage.

Dom considered going off to pick on the solo huntress. _That might make _too_ much of a scene_, he thought. It might even make them change their plans. No, he just had to make sure nobody saw Bedlam.

That might not be too hard, since even Dom had no idea where his doppelganger was hidden. He looked all through the room and saw no trace of him. _If he misses the train, he can always catch the next one. Honestly that might be the safer option. Why didn't we discuss that option before? Why am I in such a rush to keep so close to Blake?_ Dom just had to assume it was the focus granted to him by the relic that made Bedlam need to get on this train. That would make some amount of sense, since he really only cared about getting to Vale to reclaim his position of authority; his lackadaisical attitude towards his present situation was grounded in the cold truth that he was stuck in limbo waiting for intercontinental travel to arrive that he could board. He certainly cared nothing for pursuing Blake, so all that focus had to have gone _somewhere_.

The next train bound for distant Argus was not for a week... who knows what would happen to hinder Bedlam's plans in that time if he was not near enough to react? If Dom had the choice between taking a boat to Vale now, or waiting a few months for the heat to die down so that he could just fly there, he'd choose the earlier option, too. In the end, Dom trusted Bedlam to know what he was doing. It was a pretty easy choice to trust himself that much.

Ghira and his entourage emerged from one of the side hallways; Ghira was talking to the human attache that Bedlam suspected was responsible for bugging the huntresses' house. Ilia was walking behind him with Kali, in a clot of plain-clothes wearing faunus of the wretched Menagerie Militia. _Race traitors!_ Dominic seethed at the sight of them. He was itching for a chance to make them pay for involving themselves in affairs they had no part in. _Didn't they understand that I'm doing this for them? Don't they think, for a moment, that this peace with the humans won't last? The moment the humans feel like the White Fang or I am no longer a threat, nipping at their heels, they'll throw the lot of you in a cage or a hole and tell you to work like animals like they did in the past. The moment the humans feel like they're safe, they'll press their perceived advantage and strike first!_

Because that's how humans _are_. Because that's how humans had always _been_. That's why Dominic had to crush them, subjugate them, brutally-

A hand came down and gripped Dom's shoulder, dangerously close to touching the handle of Wilt where it pressed along his spine, making him yelp in surprise - _fuck, and here I was giving Bedlam shit for getting distracted and ambushed by Neo_. He spun his head around to see who was accosting him and found himself staring into the perfectly toned abs of none other than Blake's new boy-toy, Sun Wukong.

"Hey, it _is _you! I thought I recognized that hat," Sun said with a nonchalant grin. Behind him stood Sage and two other boys Dominic vaguely recognized as the boy's teammates from their studies at Haven Academy.

_Does anybody like school?_ Dominic considered, _maybe these four would revere me for living out a fantasy of destroying the fetid institution that brainwashed them for their human masters?_

"Yes, it is the man from the docks," Sage said. He turned to his fellows, "Scarlet, Neptune, this is the fellow I mentioned meeting."

"Wait, what were you guys doing at the docks?" Neptune asked, his eyes narrowing.

Sun waved the question away with his hand, then looked at the sparsely populated departure schedule and continued, "so, what brings you to the station today? Reconsidering your plan to go to Vale? There's a lot of nice settlements along the coast that the train runs through, all the way to _Argus _it seems..."

Dominic put on the biggest, goofiest grin he could muster and tried to ignore how Sun had stressed the name of Blake's destination. Sun was clearly trying to bait him into reacting to that, some bit of recognition or interest in the town. "I was looking into other ways to Vale, and hanging out here is an easy way to keep an ear out for word about the incoming-"

"Yeah, yeah, that's great," Sun interrupted, his eyes widening as he realized that Dominic was about to say 'ship', or something similar.

Dominic paused for a moment, as he recalled the difficulty Sun had in convincing one of his teammates to get on a boat. "The... um... previous travel arrangements which I had been investigating."

"Yup." Sun said and spun around to look at his teammates.

"You're heading to Vale? That's pretty expensive, especially these days. Trust me, I've been checking those prices and between that and the scarcity of pilots and carriers that want to leave Mistral, it is going to be a while before Sun manages to get us to Vacuo on huntsman budgets. We're here to see what our options are for getting to Vale by heading west, since that is a lot more of a land-route than the dangerous and unwarranted _nautical_ eastern route," Neptune said quickly, his words spilling forth before anyone else had a chance to interrupt him. "Really expensive, actually, unless you were going to Vale via Vacuo by sea. And Sun said you were a outlying settlement civilian carpenter, so there wouldn't be much chance of you-"

"Rich family maybe, saved up lien over the years, who knows, why question it, let's move on to something else," Sun finally interjected before diverting the conversation by asking, "lousy weather lately, eh?"

Dominic shrugged, "it keeps the bugs at bay; mosquitoes are terrible most years."

"Yeah, that's the first thing that annoyed me when I moved to Mistral," Sun replied.

"Never go camping without bug spray in autumn, let me tell you," Scarlet said. Sage nodded in agreement.

"Cold weather is nature's insect repellent," Neptune said, "I've never seen it like this in all my years living here, though I have read several historical treatises that state..."

"Nerd," Sun chirped.

Neptune shot him a haughty look and replied, "I keep telling you, I'm an intellectual. You would be, too, if you paid more attention in classes rather than daydreaming or totally skipping..."

"Almost like the weather is unhappy that the school's shut down," Scarlet said.

"Oh yeah, sure, the weather is having a tantrum because we can't go to history class." Sun drolled.

Sage crossed his arms, "perhaps it is mourning the death of Headmaster Lionheart, respectful of his sacrifice defending the school against the enemies of civilization."

"Yeah, Lionheart was... he sure was a great guy." Sun's smiled faded for a moment as he said that. Dominic suspected that Blake had filled in her new boyfriend, and probably daddy Ghira, about Lionheart's secret allegiance to Salem. He had to wonder how they had taken that news when she broke it to them. He had no doubts that Blake knew about Lionheart, since her little girls' club had been in there fighting him and they were back to being peas in a pod with one another.

"So, you lot are all huntsmen?" Dominic feigned interest, "that's neat."

"In training." Sage said. Dominic's mind recalled the information he had gained about the opposition in Vale from Cinder, who for all her flaws had done a lot of valuable legwork assessing the strengths and abilities of the resident huntsmen and students. _Large sword. Melee fighter. Unknown semblance, did not use during fighting tournament or not yet discovered._ Sage hadn't really demonstrated much in the tournament fights, and he hadn't shown up early enough to partake in combat classes like Sun had, so he was sort of an unknown variable.

"In desperate need of more training," Sun chided, poking Scarlet in the gut. _Collapsible_ _gun-chucks. Melee and ranged capability. Semblance similar to Blake's, but more offensive._ Adam had spent what he had deemed 'priority analysis' of Sun over the past few months, after hearing that the guy was with Blake in Menagerie. Dominic, now bereft of Bedlam's goals and mindset, would deem it to be closer to 'enraged stalking'. Either way, he knew a fair amount about Sun's fighting style and abilities.

"In desperate need of a leader who doesn't run off and leave things weird," Scarlet began, his face transforming into a scowl while he swatted away Sun's finger. _Pistol and sword.__ Acrobatic._

"Come on man, let it go, water under the bridge-" Sun verbally defended himself.

"Water?" Neptune nearly shrieked, his attention coming back to the conversation after it had been redirected towards a pair of women walking past in colourful short dresses. _Gun-spear. Hydrophobic. But most importantly, his family connections._..

"-I'm back now and totally committed to you guys and training as a team to fight for the good times."

"So how's that treating you?" Dominic asked the assembled boy-band.

"Being a huntsman is going to be great," Neptune said, regaining his composure more quickly than he had lost it.

"Babes love a huntsman," Scarlet smiled, "when we walk into those hinterland villages, you know the ladies'll be lining up to hear about the stories we'll have to tell."

"To serve Mistral, to serve any of the kingdoms, is the greatest honour and responsibility to which we may aspire," Sage intoned.

"Sort of dangerous, though, isn't it? I've heard Atlas is moving towards more mechanized defences, expendable protective measures to avoid loss of life."

"Yeah, well, that sounds great in theory but we were all at Beacon when it fell," Scarlet said.

"We were competing in the Vytal Tournament," Sage added, as Dominic's face played dumb about their past heroics.

"All of Atlas' high-and-mighty robots turned on us. It'll be a long time before I trust my safety and that of my friends to a scroll with a gun attached to it." Neptune said, his face darkening as he remembered the night of Adam's greatest triumph.

"Yeah, you can't trust those Atlesians and their technology," Dominic said with sincerity, "I know I feel better knowing that huntsmen are on the job." _For different reasons, perhaps, than yours_, Dominic thought to himself. _You like huntsmen because you don't trust machines. I like huntsmen because killing humans is so much more satisfying than tearing apart some droid._ "So I'm here looking for ways to get to Vale, what brings you handsome heroes this way?"

"Sun's here to-" Scarlet began, before yelping out in pain. Did someone stomp on his foot? The green-haired one, Sage, seemed to have done something behind the bench, out of view.

"Just checking around to make our own travel plans," Sun completed.

"Hey, Sun, speaking of which, when did you say you wanted to go do that _thing_?" Neptune whispered, though his words were easily audible to Dominic's ears.

Sun flipped out his scroll and looked at the time. His face fell, what Adam had thought was a permanently-stuck smile on his face suddenly fading into a lovely state of shock and mounting dread.

"Oh no! I'm going to be late!" He grabbed Neptune, "come on!" He turned to the other two, "you two: do the _other_ thing and keep my friend _entertained with your_ _company_ until I get back, alright?"

Scarlet and Sage stood up straight, like they were soldiers receiving an absolute order, looked at Dominic, and nodded.

"Not a problem," Sage said, "we are happy to _brighten his day_ until you get back."

"Any friend of Sun's is a friend of team SSSN's," Scarlet quipped, making no difference between the pronunciation of his leader's name and his team name. Whoever thought that naming a huntsmen-in-training team the same thing as a member of that team was probably either short-sighted or possessed of a brilliant, subtle humour.

_I guess Lionheart was responsible for giving them their team name... maybe he just wanted to reinforce how his fellow faunus Sun was the leader of the quartet?_ If true, Dominic had to give the guy credit: that was a big flex of his authority against the human elite.

The faunus and his blue-haired compatriot ran off towards where Blake and her team were milling about, Neptune chastising his leader for oversleeping and getting distracted as they scrambled off.

Dominic watched them go, and as he did had a clear view of the train and Blake, who was talking to the pathetically simpering Ilia - clearly willing to change her spots to whatever team Blake was on at any given moment - on a connecting walkway atop where Blake's team sat on their bench.

Then he saw Bedlam.

Bedlam calmly walked up to the staff entrance of the caboose and casually dropped something beside it, eliciting no concern from the nearby civilians who were more interested in their scrolls or travelling companions. A couple of rugged looking guys came out of the door a few seconds later - clearly huntsman trained, if Dominic's instincts and the way they strutted about with their weapons on full display were anything to rely on - and they went to chat with potential passengers who had begun to fill up benches similar to the one on which Dominic reclined awkwardly, squeezed between Scarlet and Sage. The sword running along his spine made sitting a difficult affair sometimes, but at least it didn't attract attention unless someone went and grabbed it by chance.

Whatever Bedlam had put beside the door fell over softly when it was pushed open by the huntsmen's exit. Once they had wandered off to shake down the waiting riders, Bedlam made his move and slipped through the door. Dominic shook his head, seeing that his twin had left it ajar. _Would anyone think it suspicious that the door was open?_

He returned his attention to the conversation between Sage and Scarlet, who were talking about their scheme to get to Vacuo.

"You nearly blew our entire operation there, Dominic," Sage said, "Neptune _can't_ know that we're planning to go by boat."

"Would have cost us a week of planning if he had found out we were going about behind his back like that," Scarlet worried, "and would have left us with no viable means to get to Vacuo's Shade Academy to finish our training besides Neptune's plan to take a year going the long way around, through Vale. The scenic, safe route."

"I thought they had nearly finished rebuilding Haven, why not just wait until they re-open here?"

"Two reasons," Sage said. "First: the buildings might be fine, but there are very few huntsmen left in Mistral."

"And fewer huntresses," Scarlet added.

"Yes, and fewer huntresses, if that matters," Sage sighed.

"It does, it always does, and there are even fewer that are easy to look at during a lecture on grimm studies or history," Scarlet continued, "what I wouldn't give to have that Professor Goodwitch transfer out here..."

Scarlet's hands traced an idealized feminine figure in the air while he spoke.

"AS I WAS SAYING," Sage said louder, drowning out the detailed description of what Goodwitch could bring to Scarlet's _personal_ education, "Few capable fighters left in this territory, and fewer still that are willing to teach or have the permission of the Crown to leave their posts defending the reaches of the Kingdom."

"I mean, how are they going to sustainably defend the Kingdom if they don't teach the next generation and lose more and more qualified fighters each year to attrition?" Scarlet grumbled in the background.

"And secondly, we have other reasons for wanting to go to Shade."

"Secret reasons," Scarlet said with a wink, nudging against Dominic knowingly. "Sexy reasons."

"Secret reasons?" Dominic asked, suddenly suspicious.

"A gentleman doesn't tell," Sage said, shooting a glance at Scarlet.

"Do I look like a gentleman?" Scarlet scoffed, "me and Dom, here, we're cut from the same cloth." Scarlet looked up and down Dominic, approvingly noting his fashion choice. "So during the Vytal Festival, we made a little wager with another team by the name of NDGO when we found out we were matched up against them. They were _total_ babes, and really confident that they were going to take the top prize."

"You really shouldn't tell him... or anyone," Sage muttered, resigned to the story being told whether he permitted it or not.

"So you're going all the way to another continent to... collect a gambling debt?"

"That's one way to put it," Sage said, "and the best way to leave it."

"Hey, if you'd seen these girls, you'd be looking for a boat, too," Scarlet grinned. "Although, I guess you sort of already are?"

In the distance, Dominic saw Ruby rejoin her pack, a blur of red streaking through the hub, while Neptune and Sun raced over to chat with Blake and Ilia. They slowed down as they reached the top of the stairs, then began walking slowly and carefully to sneak up on the girls so as to pretend that they hadn't been running like they had a pseudo-speed semblance to get there moments before.

"Have you ever travelled by boat before, Dom?" Sage asked, changing the topic.

"Yes."

"How long a journey?"

"Several days," Dominic remembered the rickety boat Ghira and Sienna had chartered to get him and a few other faunus out of Solitas. "It was not the best experience, but it was also not the finest boat."

Sage and Scarlet nodded.

Remembering his cover identity, Dominic added, "the woodwork of the ship was atrocious, I knew that even as a young man."

"How old are you, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Hard to say for sure. Grew up an orphan, and records weren't well kept when it was a choice between keeping weapon supplies or a child's identity. I'm definitely at least twenty by now."

"Ouch," Scarlet said, "sorry for bringing it up, mate."

"It's not a sore point for me," Dom lied. "I have no parents. A lot of people I grew up with were, to keep the conversation topical, in the same boat."

Sage snorted, failing to contain his response to the dark humour. "Nice," he managed to say before regaining his stoic demeanour.

_Well, at least my humour goes over well with these guys_, Dominic thought. Maybe being stuck on a boat with them for weeks wouldn't be such a terrible thing, and he would relish the opportunity to learn how Sun had managed to assert his authority over them. In fact... "So how do you feel about Sun as your team leader?"

Scarlet shrugged, and Sage made a harrumph-sound.

"He makes sure we train, when he's around."

"Someone's must be in charge of our team, I suppose." Sage said, "though the team name would be the same if I was in charge."

"Or me," Scarlet reminded.

"Yes, but you'd be a worse leader than Sun. You're so careless at times I fear you'd lose your own shadow if it weren't attached to you."

Scarlet stood up in outrage, "you take that back! I'm not careless, I just have a carefree spirit!"

"You wouldn't be able to manage to keep us all in check, you couldn't handle the responsibility."

"Well I say Lionheart made the better choice, appointing Sun as the leader rather than _you_. You're too quiet to lead, too patient. You would probably have made us wait until the second week of classes before going to one, just to hear what other students thought about them. We'd have been kicked out if you were in charge of the team."

"Which Sun's leadership never resulted in. So we're in agreement, then. Sun is the best leader we have, even if he did leave us at a very poor moment."

Scarlet sputtered, confused at how the conversation had been turned into a trap. Dominic, sensing the undertones of their discussion and remembering the one he had seen at the docks, understood Scarlet to have been vocal about his disagreement with Sun's choice to follow Blake instead of remaining with his team. Scarlet deflated, slouched and sat back on the bench.

"Yeah, Sun's the best bloke for the job," he said, defeated.

In the distance, he saw the two unknown older huntsmen retreat from team RWBY after being challenged by Qrow to close the door to the caboose, before returning to harassing the passengers that weren't huntsmen. Neptune and Sun were engaging Ilia and Blake in their farewells.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly. The mission was a success: Bedlam was on the train and his quarry was none the wiser. If Sun knew who Dominic really was, which was a strong possibility despite his fantastic disguise, then he had left these two humans here to make sure that he didn't get on that train. If Sun didn't know Dom's true identity, then as far as he was concerned Taurus was running out in the woods.

Dom looked back and forth between the guys on either side of him and whispered conspiratorially, "alright, so how can I help you guys get Neptune on that boat?"

"Not sure yet," Scarlet said.

"What's your scroll contact?" Sage asked.

"Ugh, I never remember it. I don't call my own scroll! Just give me yours and I'll add the two of you to mine." Dom pulled out his scroll and stood up, "want to go check out the gift shop? Maybe the food here isn't too overpriced..." He began moving away from the bench with the pair of them sticking closely behind him, but not closely enough to see the FlamingOS logo on his scroll's screen or the background image of his name and Brazen's written into the condensation on Lichen's bathroom mirror.

"Right now our best bet is to find some way of getting him on the boat while he's asleep, but he's not a particularly heavy sleeper." Scarlet said, "and it's not like we can get him to just take a bunch of sleeping pills for fun."

Dominic thought about how Bedlam had described his own involuntary relocation to Torchquik. "I don't want to sound sketchy, but what if I told you I might know someone in town with a way to knock a grown man out long enough to get him on a boat?"

"We talking about a semblance, or drugs?"

"I'll have to ask her," Dominic replied. The feminine pronoun seemed to pique Scarlet's interest; apparently he didn't feel as bad about a female drugging his friend.

"Hey, if it works, it works." Scarlet said, "trust me, he'll thank you for it when we get to Vacuo without wasting our youth getting there."

Dominic had doubts, but he also had few stakes in the issue beyond determining how much entertainment he would have during transit.

"It is really a shame he can't control his semblance," Sage lamented. "It would make the journey that much more... comfortable."

Dominic was about to inquire about what Neptune's semblance _was_, since that seemed like a good thing to know. _In fact, I should try to learn about all of their semblances as soon as I can._

Before he could ask, Scarlet pulled out his scroll. "Alright, got your message and added you as a contact... hmmm."

Sage pulled out his own scroll and regarded it, "you're handle is 'Night Striker'?"

_Fucking hell, Bedlam!_ Dominic choked and stumbled, catching himself.

"Woah, watch your step there _Night Striker_," Scarlet said, his voice predatory as he moved in for Dominic's dignity's jugular.

Dominic quickly found his footing, and a defense for the ridiculous scroll handle, "yeah, it's my... gamer tag. That's the name I use in all of my scroll games, so it's what my Net friends know me by. It was a nickname I got at trade school, for working a lot of night shifts."

"Right..." Scarlet said, then "hey, while I've got my scroll out, you should check out our fight against team NDGO."

Dominic was inclined to agree. If they were actually sincere in not suspecting his true identity, then having them show him their combat videos would make it significantly less awkward to explain any later familiarity with their techniques. "Yeah, that sounds like fun. I've not really got anywhere to get to in a hurry..."

"The damn censors in Vale blurred out the parts where you would be able to see up their skirts, but otherwise you can see everything that happened."

Sage shook his head, unappreciative of his teammate's open lechery. The video began to play.

"Oh don't be like that," Scarlet said to Sage, then turned back to whisper to Dom, "he's just still upset that he got tossed out of the ring right at the start."

The match continued on the scroll screen.

"You know, this wasn't really our best performance," Scarlet realized as he watched himself take a coconut to the groin while Sage and Dominic reflexively cringed at the sight of the man's masculine pain.

The video ended, and Dom looked at the pair of them. "So what's the take-away here for me? Neptune is your key member?"

"Like I said, not our best performance," Scarlet repeated.

"We were... unfortunate and ill-prepared for that combat. The ladies underestimated Neptune, but we may have underestimated them overall. Thankfully for us, Sun managed to get Neptune to contribute effectively."

"Alright, alright, I get it, he's a good leader and I'll stop complaining!" Scarlet said, putting his scroll away. They reached the gift shop and browsed the overpriced garbage on display. By the time Dominic had read the covers of all the destination postcards - though he doubted anyone ever wished they were in 'Scenic Mistral' - Sun and Neptune tracked them down.

"There you three are," Sun said with his easy smile, "thought you guys had run off or something."

"Would have been the smart play," the resigned voice of Neptune followed, "this guy's on about how great the Wastelands of Vacuo are."

"They are a spectacular ecosystem, full of a hardy beauty which some of you," he stared at each of his teammates knowingly, "would benefit from."

A train whistle blew in the distance, and there was a slight rumble in the ground as the Argus Unlimited left the station. Sun smiled and the tension left his body.

"He's saying we're all soft, and that the wastelands are a great place to toughen us up." Neptune translated.

"Isn't Vacuo just a big sunny oasis?" Dominic asked.

"Oh, it is so much more than that! It's a desert! It's a barren storm of sand! It's a testament to the folly of conflict and war!"

"The oasis was wrecked in the Great War, the place is a total dump now, is what he is trying to say," Neptune continued to translate, earning him a bonk on his head from Sun and an irate glower.

"We've got contact info for Dominic for you, oh great leader," Scarlet said. Sun looked at his human underling warily, unsure as to why there was no sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

"If you two don't mind sharing that with your boys here, I need to head back to my motel. One of my friends from the western settlements was planning on meeting me later today and I've gotten as much as I can from hanging out here all day - I don't want to make it seem like I'm living at the train station like a bum."

"Sure, I'd hate to keep you bogged down with these losers any longer than you need to be," Sun chirped, earning himself a playful punch on each shoulder from Scarlet and Neptune.

"Until we meet again, _Night Striker_," Sage said, flashing a sparkling smile at Dom. Dom walked away, leaving Sun and Neptune to ask for the backstory on _that_ little embarrassment.

Dom walked slowly, with a measure of calmness and clarity that he had not felt in weeks. Bedlam was on his way. _And you're an easy fool, SSSN_. Now all that Dom had to deal with were his own problems and Brazen's inevitable fury for Bedlam's purloining of his shirt and pants - though if the ship to Vacuo got to the city soon enough, and Brazen kept himself cloistered away with Neo while practically nude for long enough, maybe Brazen wouldn't even notice his clothes were missing before Dominic was able to skip town, too.

All in all, it had been a good morning. It was all he could do to not laugh maniacally as he made his way back onto the street, Sun's concerned but confused gaze on his back the entire way. He threw the stolen military scroll he'd taken earlier into a trashcan. Mission complete.

~J~

**BEDLAM**

The train whisked effortlessly along the gravity-dust infused track which would take Blake's team to Argus.

Argus. Away from Sun Wukong, who did not board the train with them.

Argus. Away from Sun Wukong, who Blake had kissed.

He stared at his scroll with bile rising in his throat.

All of the years he had given to Blake. How he had groomed her into a fighter, a champion of their people. Of their cause.

It was never _their_ cause. Never _their_ people. Blake had only ever cared about herself. Never cared about others. Never noticed his growing affection for her. Never praised him for the sacrifices he made for her. Never rewarded him, never considered the pain he had been through, the pain he would put himself through to protect her from harm and for what he had thought they both wanted.

Change in the world. Freedom for the faunus.

He had gradually learned, one slave pen torn asunder by Wilt at a time, that humans would never stop seeing them as animals so long as they were free to choose. _Dai was right_, he realized, _choice is a curse, a burden on humanity_. The world would be better off with Dominic's vision. The humans needed to be ruled, brutally if need be, but somehow they must be ruled. Brought to heel, taught to obey. Oh, how he had tried to share his wisdom with Blake. Humans didn't deserve choice.

He stared at the scroll. At the image of the woman who had used him for years, played with his trust and his heart since the day he had met her in Menagerie. At the image of the woman who half an hour ago had displayed more affection to Sun Wukong than she would ever have given him.

When he had boarded the train through the staff door in the caboose, he had instantly drawn Wilt in case there were guards inside. Instead of guards, his drawn blade had only made it easier to spy on Blake as she said her farewell to Sun on the bridge overlooking the station's atrium. Easier to record for eternity her latest stinging betrayal with the zoom function of the scroll's camera application.

He pressed the touchscreen of the device several times and, with so little effort for such a momentous effect, replaced the background image to that of Blake kissing Sun.

He wondered if Dominic had seen it from wherever he had found himself in the station. He wished he could thank Dom; he had been able to get on the train without arousing any notice from the staff or passengers. While he didn't know if Dom had actively had to help, until it was proven otherwise he would assume that Dom had done something. If nothing else, he had backed his play to kill those soldiers without hesitation. Fighting beside himself was ecstasy, but it reminded him of how well he had fought beside Blake - the only person who had ever had his back so skilfully as Dominic or Brazen.

He had thought that his heart had broken when Blake abandoned him on the last train they had rode together, but now he realized it was truly torn asunder. Had she ever even liked him? Had she been using him the entire time, dependent on him to shelter her after she fled her home? _She must have seen no choice but to endear herself to me, for her own preservation._ She could not leave him because she could not go home to her parents, the only two things she had ever known. Until she found her new, third option. _She only saw me as a last resort._

He had to face the possibility that there was no redeeming her, no bringing her back to his side. Her heart and mind beyond his reach.

_She never kissed me_.

If Blake was beyond saving now, if she truly was lost to him, then his path was clear. His choice, predetermined. Was she beyond saving? "Does Blake... have to die?" It was a bitter question that he whispered into the shadows, and he felt his heartbeat slow as a perplexing tranquility washed through him. A piece of him wished it wasn't so, that there was still hope. That he still had a choice. He wanted to just leap off the train and go back to the comforting, understanding arms of his clones. He couldn't do it, though. He had to see this through to the end. They were counting on him. _I'm counting on me to deal with Blake, one way or another..._

He looked again at the image on his scroll. At the image of Blake kissing Sun. One moment. Did it have to change everything? His mind felt like the eye of a hurricane. Everything was chaos, falling apart and breaking around him, everything he knew, all his dreams, crashing into a sea of despair around him.

**She hurt you.**

_**You love her.**_

_She hurt me! Even when I went to her for comfort, she hurt me. Made me dependent on her, so much more than she ever depended on me._

**Resolution of your past, or else you have no future.**

**_There's always a tomorrow worth fighting for..._**

_How can I live without tying up all these loose ends I have with Blake?_

**You gave her everything.**

_**...we... needed... nothing... were already strong...**_

_She gave me nothing._

**Bide your time, for it will come.**

_Her time is coming to an end._

Everything was chaos, falling apart and cracking around him, but his path forward through it was clear. He had realized his purity of purpose. Bedlam turned off his scroll and sheathed Wilt on his back, then skulked to the double-door between the caboose - which seemed to be comprised of crew sleeping quarters that would not see use for several hours save by the singular sleeping young man who Bedlam presumed was the next shift's conductor - and the rest of the train, looking for a room to stow away in. He considered trying to impersonate the conductor, but thought that position a bit too high-profile for him to properly fill for the long trip to Argus. He needed a way to lie low for a week or so, depending on how long they stopped over at each coastal town and what sort of barriers luck would throw their way.

"What do you mean you have to confiscate them?" Bedlam heard loudly exclaimed from the other side of the door. Through the transparent windows he saw what appeared to be a very elderly human woman with eye implants, her ire directed to a cowering steward, "well what do you expect to have me eat on this bucket of bolts?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, but those foods aren't allowed because of allergies among our clients: we offer a service that is comfortable for everyone." Bedlam's sensitive faunus ears picked up, since reading lips was _hard_. "We do have a fully stocked kitchen in car four, with a variety of meals for-"

"Allergies? Allergies!" The woman yelled, "I'm the only one in the cabin, aren't I? Who's going to worry about allergies?"

"Ma'am, it's just train policy. For all we know, _you_ could be allergic to cashews or nuts-"

"Preposterous!"

"-and have an allergic reaction that would put undue strain on our already tight schedule in order to-"

"Well that's just _great_," the old woman seethed, ending the conversation by going into the cabin and slamming the door across behind her. The staff member, looking relieved for the interaction to have ended, approached the caboose carrying a lumpy brown bag with black letters on its side. Bedlam crouched down in the corner by the door.

The staff member unlocked the door, then rushed by, completely heedless of the faunus terrorist's presence he passed as he went into the caboose with the contraband.

_Well, I can't very well stay in the caboose now, with all the staff coming and going_, he thought. He needed something better. _I could ram Wilt into the undercarriage and hang on._ It wasn't a terrible idea, but it wouldn't be easy, either. He would do it if it was the only way to fulfill his promise to Blake. He would do it if there wasn't an alternative.

Bedlam hid himself again as the staff member came back through the accordion-like connector room. _Hanging onto the bottom of the train is a good back-up plan, but I think I just came up with a more convenient answer to my_ issue. He snuck into the crew quarters, careful not to disturb the sleeping conductor, and found the contraband chest. Prying it open, he retrieved the brown bag. As a wanted terrorist, Adam Taurus had long ago learned the value of a well-placed bribe.

Bedlam opened the recently-slammed-shut door and sat himself down on the nearest surface which was, to his disgust, the lower bunk of a bunk bed. _I hate bunk beds_, he complained internally, remembering the darkness of the SDC mines and the cramped sleeping quarters anytime he saw them. The pitiful cries of his fellow slaves as they tried to escape to a world of dreams where the ever-present lashes of the taskmasters were blissfully absent. _Technically bunk hammocks, but still._ If he had his choice of sleeping place, he'd go for a nice, spacious bedroom of his own that didn't cram other people in with him.

"Who're you?" the cranky old woman demanded.

"I'm your cabin-mate," Bedlam lied easily.

The woman's mechanical teal eyes squinted at him, which might indicate suspicion if they didn't then start spinning, prompting her to start slapping her own head comically several times until her implants seemed to resume regular functioning.

"No luggage?" she snapped, her tone still sharp despite having just had to pummel herself.

"Not my way of travelling."

"Where are you heading?"

"All the way to Argus."

"My name is Maria Calavera. If you're on your way to Argus we would be seeing a lot of each other, since I'm heading up that way, too, but the train company must have made some mistake, or you've gotten into the wrong cabin. This is a private cabin. Mine."

"I can't say I care about rules like that, Ms Calavera," Bedlam admitted. _I can't say I care about any human rules, really._ "In fact, you could say I'm a little bit of a rebel." Bedlam looked over his shoulder slowly, then over the other in the same, slow manner through the door window, before looking at his new potential-hostage-if-anything-goes-wrong and smiled before whispering conspiratorially, "if you promise not to tell the staff..." He reached into his cloak and pulled out the lumpy nut bag she had just lost. "My name's Bedlam."

Maria's lenses squinted, then widened along with her mouth as she smiled. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Bedlam," she said as she reached eagerly for the bounty. "Having such _reasonable_ company will be nice on this long trip."

Bedlam hopped nimbly up into the bed's top mattress and stretched out, his mind going back to the time he spent asleep at Lichen's house. Sleeping on the floor at TorchQuik, on branches in the forest, it really made a guy appreciate these small creature comforts.

"You got an unlocked aura or something? How'd you do that wearing a blindfold?"

"How well do you see through those eyes of yours?" he asked, suddenly curious but also defensive.

"When they're maintained I can see as well as I did when I had real ones, minus most colours mind you. Old Mantle tech, from the Great War... they thought that if the lower class couldn't see colour and beauty, they would be... calmer. Unlike the original wearer, I didn't have to lose anything when they were installed. They'd been gathering dust in a Mantle chop shop for decades..."

Bedlam nodded glumly as she explained her implants; all too often the elites had used his people as fodder for their hair-brained schemes, their tests.

"...so I bought 'em real cheap after I lost my old eyes!" Maria said cheerfully, almost in a deranged way that made Bedlam wonder if age wasn't catching up with her mind.

_Well, if she can't see colour at least she might not be able to identify me as Adam Taurus..._ "Yeah, I had my aura unlocked when I was young. Did some... mining work, dangerous, so it... helped."

"You're a faunus, aren't you?" Maria cooed, her voice suddenly softer. "Don't worry, that never mattered to me at all, but I know all too well how faunus are treated by the dust trade. Sad to admit that we need the dust so badly we discard our souls to get it. What's the point of protecting a society that is so harsh? I've heard that many times, but I think there's an answer out there somewhere."

The train glided along the coast, and the sea-clad horizon to the east sparkled in the sunlight.

"I always liked to think it was hope. Hope that things will keep changing, keep getting better."

Bedlam grunted. That sounded like something that Brazen or Dominic would think about.

"My generation may have left the world in tatters, but the next generation has tomorrow." Maria finished, lying down in her bed and pulling out an ancient-looking book while she dug into the cashews, chomping away faster than an old woman should have been capable of before saying - her mouth full of partially-eaten nut paste - "and tomorrow can bring any number of wonders."

~J~

"So is that a point for you, then?" Adam asked, uncertain. "He may have ended up agreeing with your option for how to deal with Blake, but he's nowhere near the time to turn that choice into action."

**Whatever passion was left in him for the girl has been completely turned to** **rage,** Dai countered, **I believe the chances of her redeeming herself in his eye unlikely. I declare that it is a point for me!**

Adam crossed his arms in irritation and paced towards the thin mist that came into Dai's little bubble at the edge. It seeped into their refuge along the floor for a few hand-lengths before it dissipating - either evaporating or refusing to enter further - making the perimeter of Dai's prison somewhat blurry. He wondered what would happen if he tried to just run out into the mist. Was is solid out there at some point? Was anything out there in the Between Realms? If he tried to leave, would Dai try to stop him? It seemed strange to him that his first instinct upon being free in this place hadn't been to simply run out into the mist. In fact, he'd taken a lot of things for granted here. _Is any of this even real? Maybe I died in my throne room and this is my personal tormenting afterlife._ Adam had never given the afterlife much thought - too much going on in his life to grant such thoughts any attention. _There's no reason for me to leave, though. No harm in sticking around and learning what I can from Dai_.

He looked back at his host. Fellow prisoner?

She had _maybe_ won the first point, according to the rules of her game. Best to concede for now, wait until it became more urgent to debate the matter. "I suppose it is. Typical for me and my people, to be behind from the get-go. But if he chooses not to kill her when the time comes, do you lose the point?"

**I suppose I would, but you would not get the point, either**, Dai pondered the idea before admitting. **It would be a draw? ****I think he will kill her, though. I would. From what you have told me, and from what I perceived while on your finger these past months, you were with her for a very long time. Or, at least, relatively long for your existence. Nothing compared to being shunted into a dungeon for a half-century, or in a cave for longer still.**

"Or being in here for an eternity," Adam prompted. Bedlam's thoughts while he and Dai had urged him to resolve what reaction he should have to Blake's latest betrayal had not been _merciful_. It was more than likely that Dai was right, and that his physical counterpart would attempt to simply kill Blake.

**Ah ah ah!** Dai scolded playfully, fluttering over to him and shrinking down so that she could light gracefully on his shoulder like the conscience she seemed to like playing the part of. **You can ask for the truth behind that if you win****!**

It wasn't like Adam had much other to do in the Between Realms besides what Dai had said he was ostensibly here to do - monitor his selves so that his final, combined soul would face whatever came after life as a single entity; indulging Dai her game, which she called 'Dichotomy' was just a way to make it more interesting. The chance to learn more about her, why she had been put in here in the first place, motivated him to accept the risk of losing and what that would entail.

He didn't know why Dai wanted access to his selves' dreaming minds, nor why she could not simply grant herself access to those. Why would the Gods require that she win his consent? Adam shook his head - the whims of such beings were surely beyond his ken.

Of course, being the representative of the Relic of Choice, the reward for winning their game had to be a choice between two boons outlined at the game's outset. Adam could ask about Dai's past, her reasons for being here. Or he could choose to manifest alone to one of his real-world counterparts in a dream or in null-time - she had accepted the rewards he conceived of, having assisted him a little in determining what she could put on the table if he won, but warned him that if he chose that reward it would only be usable under certain conditions: when a clone was actively dreaming, or when a clone said her name while wearing the ring. Essentially he could win a chance to be the only voice in the clone's ear, without having to worry about Dai interfering.

Adam walked back over to the floating rings. One was dark, Bedlam's, as he slept in the train. He touched the ring curiously.

**The important thing is that Bedlam is on his way, pursuing Blake. I was worried that he would get caught, but Dominic seemed to have kept attention off of him long enough for him to stow away successfully.**

Dai wanted to know what Bedlam dreamed of, and needed Adam to permit her access. _Why can't I permit myself access to my own dreams?_ Adam tried hard to remember having ever really dreamed. Really, most of his dreams were in his waking life: a dream of equality, a dream of revenge, a dream of being with Blake. He lived his dreams. Maybe the reason he couldn't access his sleeping mind was because he didn't dream, couldn't dream while asleep.

**This Maria woman seems quite mercenary. I like her.  
**

"I do like her so far, I guess. She is alright for a human." Adam nodded. "She's far too old to be concerned about my plans for the future, too frail to stop them if she wanted to, and from what she's said she is too insignificant to bear too much responsibility for my people's suffering. If anything, she seems to be pro-faunus."

Dai made a sound of indignation,** You should know that age does not affect us all so dearly.** She looked back towards the floating rings,** I would prefer it if he got out of those stuffy clothes while sleeping.**

"Probably not the best idea," Adam said quickly, "I've had a bad run of luck with lecherous old ladies lately."

Dai _hmphed_ in mock outrage and fluttered away, growing as she flew until she was the same size as him. **I would not say you are the one not getting lucky in this situation.**

Adam was reminded that Dai also had a choice of rewards for winning their game. He didn't much care for objectifying himself as a possible prize, but still: not like he had much else to do here to keep things interesting. And he would like the option of knowing more about Dai or conversing with one of his selves; having some sort of real effect on reality again rather than being trapped as a passive observer.

Dai flashed him a needle-toothed grin as she reclined back on the couch, making him involuntarily squirm.

He wondered if Dai even cared about getting access to his dreams; maybe that had just been an empty option to distract him from her true goal. _It is possible I don't dream at all_. The alternative may also be true: maybe she had just played up her carnal desire for him the entire time to get him to let his guard down? In any event, those teeth looked very sharp.

He hoped she had taken cues from how Neo had done it, because she seemed to find the entire action particularly novel. Clearly her species had focused on other ways of showing affection, if Adam had to make an educated guess. _Not like I'm one to talk disparagingly about differing displays of affection_...

Trying to take over the world was, in a manner of thinking, just a fancy way of telling Blake he liked her. No teeth or tongues involved, minus the ones his people bared and the wagging one in the mouths of Ghira and Cinder.

Adam kept watching the rings, hoping that the next choice he advocated for helped him even the score board. Dai had gotten first choice of what she would push Bedlam to decide because she had won at cards (so easily). Now, the next turn he would get first pick of which side to take.

_I might be as good as dead in here, but I still don't want to lose my dick in that maw if she gets four points before I do._

* * *

AN: Aiming to update again in a month or so, but it's like writing 5% versus editing 90%. The rest of my time is devoted to chasing squirrels I guess. More NeopolAdam eventually, which should be some sexy fun but I also need to keep tabs on Dommy and best boy Bedlam. Let me know if you think this deserves the humour tag. Happy Dominion Day, stay safe.


	17. Relative Morality

She was back on the train.

Not like how she had been on the train every night for the past week in her nightmares, vividly reliving each terrifying moment, remembering each scrape of nevermore talon against metal and glass around her in the darkness.

She was actually - that is to say physically - back on the train, on her way back to Kuchinashi. She looked out the window at the setting sun, the lights of the city behind her somewhere. The safety of the city behind her. She scratched the back of her hand nervously until she noticed what she was doing, then pulled her hand away from the other. Red marks marred her skin now._ If I had aura, it'd probably heal instantly_, she imagined.

Cammy Obscura did not have aura, though. As much as she may have fancied how much easier it would make certain aspects of everyday life, she had never been desperate enough to unlock hers. Oh, sure, it would keep her skin nicer without product, and of course there were the defensive aspects of aura once you trained with it, she knew all that. She also knew the downsides: the expectations associated with having such power. The whispered rumour that having aura unlocked made you a bigger target to grimm. Most of all, the terrifying lottery of semblances. Working for the Mistral news station, she had been privy to more than a few stories about people with aura getting themselves killed, hurt, or imprisoned. Some were people trying to discover their aura, hungry for glory or power: letting themselves be struck by lightning by standing on rooftops. Trying to fly by jumping off buildings. Hurting themselves in the hopes of finding out that they had a combat-related semblance that would earn them the respect of their peers or let them protect their loved ones from the threats faced by humanity. Then there were the stories of people with semblances that hindered their day-to-day lives: a woman with intermittent invisibility getting hit by a car, now in a wheelchair. A man said to have bad breath so bad it could corrode metal, forever single. Even less noticeable semblances, like the famous Qrow Branwen's bad luck semblance. Finally you had the scum, the criminals, who let the power they found in their semblance fuel their egos. Hypnotists, deceivers, thieves. Those who used their power to harm society, weaken it against the constant onslaught of the grimm for their own perverse pleasure. It made a person wonder if character traits determine your semblance, or vice versa - especially where vice is concerned!.

Cammy Obscura did not have aura, and she didn't want it. She was happy the way she was. Still, she envied the huntresses for their flawless bodies. The lives of adventure they led. The lack of fear they had when faced with the dangers of Remnant. Here she was, trembling and nervously itching herself raw just by being on a train. She pulled her hand away from the other again, mentally reminding herself to trim her nails.

_Pathetic_, she thought of herself. She drew in a deep breath. It would still be another half hour or so until the train docked in Kuchinashi, at which point she would be responsible for securing lodging for herself and her quickly assembled news team for the next few days while she did the report the station manager had tasked her with putting together. _"The military report has the facts, Cammy, but the people on the street want to know the _heart_. I know it's a big ask, but you're the employee with the most experience there, since it's your hometown. Can you go back to Kuchinashi and do a full video report for this coming weekend special?"_ Her mind had reeled when he had asked her. There was no way she was willing to leave the safety of the city after what had happened. Kuchinashi might be safe, but how could she be assured that there were not still a host of grimm lingering along the railway? _"I'll offer you triple pay for it..."_ Plus, her story would be the highlight of the coveted weekend special slot!

_Damn her weak will!_ She should have refused. She could have refused! He would have understood. He probably wouldn't have held it against her in the future, considering that her panicked call and his subsequent call to his friends in the military had both saved Kuchinashi and raised him in Mistral's high society. He'd even been invited twice to meet with the Crown Prince in the time since she had gotten back to the city, and he owed those opulent theatre outings to her.

Cammy spent a moment jealously thinking that it should have been her spending time with the nobility at the theatre in the upper city. Eating finely prepared meals: the names of which she would have had trouble pronouncing. Croquembouche? Things she had only seen as tantalizing pictures on glossy magazine covers. That was the goal, wasn't it? The goal of anyone in Mistral not at the top. Make enough lien to buy your way up the ladder. The conceptual social ladder physically represented in the shape of the mountain's two peaks - two ways to the top: be a rich, cultured noble or attend Haven Academy. Speaking of which...

Cammy stole a glance at the seats behind her. She had to give her station credit for not sending her out here alone; they had even sprung to buy her a nice outfit to be on camera in. Behind her lounged a pair of huntsmen-in-training, her assigned bodyguards, a bit more reputable than mercenaries but still doing the job for lien at the end of the day. One, Scarlet David, wore a white outfit with a heavy red jacket. The other, Sage Ayana, probably had distinctive clothes as well but Cammy hadn't been able to see much more than his gorgeous yellow eyes and firm exposed chest.

_Those abs_, she thought without drooling even a little, quickly cowering back down into her seat. Neither one had been paying attention to her, so she had not been noticed. Each of the boys was looking out the windows, alert for signs of danger. Not like her camera operator, a rather husky, greasy fellow who had spent the entire ride so far completely engrossed in the checking and re-checking of his lenses and other associated equipment.

Apparently the editing staff thought it necessary to have a trained cameraman with her this time, as if her headline-making photo of the alpha nevermore's defeat hadn't demonstrated her proficiency. _Although if the lighting had been better my argument that it wasn't Raven Branwen might have had more traction_. The bosses hadn't given her much credit when she testified that whoever had torn through the rear car had been male, not female. _"You were in shock, Cammy"_ they had said, _"let us take it from here,"_ they had said. Cammy had no idea why they had moved so fast for the Raven Branwen angle - as if the butcher-bitch of Shion needed good publicity. It was a mystery that Cammy might have wanted to get to the bottom of if it didn't mean risking her job, which in this economy... Plus, they'd paid her a week's wage for that single photo. That combined with the pay for this job would easily pay for a remodelled en suite bathroom for her apartment.

Damn her weak will, she could have refused this job, but she really wanted that jacuzzi hot tub. Fifteen jets! Fifteen. Jets. Like a personal spa. She had two combat-experienced guards with her, and would be on her home turf. _Easiest lien I'll have ever made_, Cammy thought, trying to feel smug about her life choices. She also hoped that, if she did a good enough job on this beat, the bosses would remember that later when they were considering who should get promoted.

Cammy peered at the front of the car, where a handful of other passengers traveling to Kuchinashi sat quietly in their seats. Some prospectors, with mining tools. They had been boisterous earlier but had finally calmed down. A rugged looking fellow who openly wore a pair of thin, curved blue-dust infused blades that she took to be a huntsman similar to David and Ayana behind her - though the guy seemed like he had a few years on them, or maybe he just hadn't been taking care of himself as well as they had been. A pair of men in matching cheap suits, likely on a business trip to check in on their Kuchinashi investments or branch of business now that the military had deemed the area secure.

The past few days Cammy had spent up at Haven Academy. Trying to interview staff and guards, but her mind hadn't really been there for it. The boss had sent her out here to shake her out of her post-traumatic funk. Maybe he hadn't liked her - admittedly negative - reports that the staff were doubting the capacity of the newly appointed Headmaster Beige to restore the school to its former glory. She had also managed to write a rather damning report of Lionheart, berating the deceased teacher for apparently taking extraordinary efforts to conceal from the public the increasing scarcity of huntsmen in the Kingdom's territory and subsequent diminishment of available instructors for the school and its feeder locations, which was followed up by a thorough investigation of Beige's credentials. Rather, she should say she followed it with a description of his utter lack of credentials. He'd never taught a day in his life, had never operated in any industry associated with huntsmen or defense, from what she could tell Beige was little more than the Queen's favoured yes-man who had been rewarded for his sycophantic ways with a cushy desk job in the most prestigious school in the Kingdom.

Cammy looked at the pseudo-huntsmen behind her again. _What if the boss doesn't want me to come back from this? I don't know much about these two. They look nice, but maybe that's just an act. What if the folks at the top don't want me to reveal how bad the situation at Haven is?_ It wasn't uncommon for reporters to be silenced in the city, either with lien or threats, but Cammy had never had to deal with that herself. She was a small fish. Had she accidentally swum into the deep end of the pool? What had the Crown Prince brought her boss up the mountain for to talk about? Had they talked about her?

_Note to self: revise reports on Headmaster Beige to include more praise of the Queen, make more optimistic._

She'd be fine. She hadn't ruffled any feathers, yet, and if she kept her wits about her and didn't make any sensational claims, nobody would pay her any undue attention. She would just be a reporter living comfortably in the mid-city, enjoying her fifteen jet jacuzzi in peace.

"I'm sorry miss, I've plum gone and done forgot your name already," the camera man addressed her suddenly as he finished fiddling with his gear.

Startled and shaken from her reverie, she stared blankly at him for a moment before nodding and smiling, "oh, that's okay. My name's Cammy, Cammy Obscura. Five years with the station. Your name was Mr. Bolette?"

"Just Bole, ma'am." Bole said slowly and clearly, with a strong lower-city accent. "Rufous Bole. A year and a half with the station. I must say, I'm excited for this gig. I reckon I do a good job getting shots here, the higher-ups might consider me for the full-time theatre beat! Gosh I'd love that..."

_Of course he wants to work the theatre beat: it's the cherriest job in the business other than owning the station_, Cammy thought to herself wryly. Who wouldn't want to be constantly surrounded by the height of Mistral culture? Fancy food, dress, people, everything. The only ones better off than the reporters covering the Mistral elites at their cultural occasions were the elites themselves. "What jobs were you on before this one?"

"Just short-term assignments, mostly in the lower levels. Before the attack on the school I was following Josh Carpet as his camera for his expose on how dirty the faunus slums are. With the White Fang's involvement in the attacks, and the other stuff since, that project was put on hold."

_Of course it was_, she thought. Boss didn't want to publish a piece about the mistreatment of faunus in the depths while Belladonna was doing photo-ops with the Crown Prince. Sort of a mixed message there. Cammy took a small amount of joy knowing that Josh's little pet-project had been frozen. Her rival reporter was a known jerk, and had made more than one pass at her after she had told him she was not curious to investigate deeper into the _'real story in my pants, girl'_.

"City boy?"

"Born and raised, just trying to work to keep my family fed," he replied, then continued as she opened her mouth with the obvious follow-up question, "my Ma and Pa, two younger brothers, a sister-in-law and nephew because my little bro forgot to take a rubber with him to a school dance last year."

"Tough break," Cammy consoled, though the cameraman's tone implied he didn't dislike his extended family. Maybe he liked having a nephew?

"How about you, Miss Obscura?"

"Kuchinashi, as fate would have it."

Bole's face furrowed in deep thought for several seconds, then his eyes widened. "Hey, that's the name of that there place what where we're headed!"

Cammy began to feel concern that the boss may have unloaded a dud on her. She hoped that the man's professional skills with that camera were disproportionate to his city slum-school smarts.

"That'll really help us out! You'll know where everything's at!"

"It's why they sent me," Cammy agreed. "Assuming everything is still where it was last time I was here..."

Another long pause as the man ruminated the meaning of her words, then, "oh, oh no! The attack! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or nothing! I hope nobody you knew died!"

Cammy stifled a groan. This guy was going to make her earn her lien for this job. "The military report said that casualties were minimal... mostly non-severe injuries. My family is alive, though I'm not sure if they're unscathed. The military mailbag they brought back to the city didn't have much room for extended letters from residents." Cammy thought of the attack again and she had to consciously stop herself from scratching at her hand again. "The train seemed to be the primary target for the grimm swarm... which I had the terror of witnessing first hand."

"Your boss mentioned that," a voice came from behind her, "he said you were the first one to get a message to the city that Kuchinashi was under attack."

The voice's companion, Scarlet, joined in as well, the two of them suddenly paying as much attention to Cammy as to the whirl of dark trees and bushes along the route. "He also said you'd be the one who took that picture of, erm, that killer bandit lass saving the train from the nevermore."

Cammy blushed a little, "well, yes, that was me. I was on the train as it left Kuchinashi and used my scroll to contact my manager once I got in range. I was in the back car of the train and used my scroll to take a picture of the person who killed the alpha."

"Raven Branwen," Sage offered, since Scarlet seemed to have forgotten the name, "the bandit lass, as he said, that was here on the train and fought off the grimm."

"Whoever it was," Cammy said. "It was dark, there was a lot of noise, I just took the picture and made the call."

"So you don't know who it was in the picture you took?"

"I know it was a dead alpha nevermore!" Cammy said shrilly. Was she on trial here? She had done a good job. She had been paid handsomely for doing such a good job!

"But you aren't sure about the person with the sword." Sage shot Scarlet a look, like they were in on some sort of private joke. The two of them were getting on her nerves now. Just because she wasn't some over-glamorized huntress didn't mean she didn't contribute to society! That she didn't work hard!

"Well..." Cammy started and stopped. She reminded herself of her earlier concern. _Little fish_, she urged, _shallow water is safe_. "The tech department cleared up my picture and they said it was Raven Branwen. I think we're all better off trusting their judgment over the frazzled mind of little old me after I'd been tossed around in a cargo car of a speeding train for an hour while being attacked by grimm."

"I saw the original of that picture in the lab," Bole said, "it was pretty bad."

_Well thanks for your support, Bole_. "They sent you with me for a reason, I guess."

"Even being on a moving vehicle, the image was especially blurry from motion and off-centered." He continued, not sparing her professional pride in her picture whatsoever, before beginning into a detailed and technical explanation of _why_ her picture was bad and why his recordings and shots of her would be much better, claiming that he'd be able to make sure her _good side_ came out on the camera.

_Bitch please, I'm all good side!_ She thought defensively, before thinking about the pimple on her neck and her lack of skill with eyeliner. All the huntresses she saw in pictures and on screen seemed to have some supernatural ability to have amazing eyes, even after fighting grimm for hours.

Cammy turned her back to them and peered out the window at the gloomy scenery. "We should arrive in a few minutes. There's a motel near the station we can crash at."

_I'll see my grandparents in the morning, since there's no chance in hell pop-pop would let me bring three boys home._ What would they even do with them if she did? Have them all sleep in a heap on the couch like gerbils?

~J~

**Neptune**

Neptune spared a glance sideways and was rewarded with a dazzling view of the Mistralian countryside visible from the peak-top patio. Across the way, on the twin peak, gleamed Haven Academy. Safe, no thanks to him and his team, but safe.

"It's been too long since we've had a chance to spend time with one another, Neppy. It feels like the good old days now, like before school and work got grabbed us up and consumed us."

His cousin's voice was accompanied by the movement of a game piece and the flipping of a card.

"You're right, Piter. When was the last time we had a chance to just relax, chat, and watch me stomp you at boardgames?"

"I haven't lost to you at Remnant: The Game since you started attending Haven, at least." Despite the fact that Neptune was much better at the game, it was still their favourite pastime. A seamless mix of cards into a miniature war game. Their other cousins were terrible at the game, too, which only added to their enjoyment of it. Pluto had given up several turns before Piter's wife had bowed out, leaving just the two of them left standing. _Well, sitting_.

"That's too long," Neptune grinned. "I bet in that time you've gotten some of your dignity back, maybe even started thinking you might have a chance at - dare I say it - winning a game?"

"There's no way you've got a chance against my conscript armies and that mass of grimm at your border, cuz." Dice were rolled, and it was Neptune's turn again.

"Maybe that's just what I want you to think!" Neptune bluffed. His armies were in complete disarray and a sandstorm had negated most of his recon work. He would have to turtle up and hope for a lucky break for the time being; relying on luck rather than his ability to strategize made him _very_ nervous. "Though you have been getting some lucky draws so far. So how has the past week been for you, since the whole Haven attack and Kuchinashi thing?" They had kept the conversation to topics about Mistralian culture and the extended family's health while the other two had been at the table, but now that it was just the two of them they could freely talk about more political topics without boring someone.

Piter dragged his fingers through his short-cropped hair, twisting at the dark blue tips nervously. _He still has a few of the old tells_, Neptune noticed.

"I don't think I've had to work as much in a month as I have in the past week," he complained, "but it's good work and visibly helping the people, and it's not like I get a choice to do it or not."

"Yeah, duty and style." Neptune paraphrased their grandmother's lessons ingrained on them from childhood.

Piter adopted a higher-pitched tone, imitating the woman, "'Mistral Magnificent', boys, and don't you forget!" Neptune laughed, and Piter joined in. "At least the worst of it seems to be coming to an end, now that everything is getting back to normal."

"I hope you're right about that. Things have been off-kilter since Beacon..." Neptune played a card from his hand and drew a new one from the deck, trying not to let it show on his face that the new addition would not save him. Best to let Piter think he had a winning plan in the wings for now.

"Not moving any of your units?"

"They're fine where they are," Neptune lied. They were all scattered, supply lines cut off by grimm or in range of blue airship units. However, there wasn't really any better arrangement for them that Neptune could see them getting to.

"What about in real life?" Piter inquired, a devious smirk on his face that told Neptune that his team's recent activities were far from secret. "I hear your team is looking to ditch Mistral for Vacuo. Does grandmother know?"

"Does grandmother need to know?" Neptune's eyes pleaded. Grandmother probably did know already, the woman seemed to be omniscient at times, but if she somehow didn't then Neptune wanted to be the one to tell her himself once Sun had arranged travel west to Vacuo. It would still be some time before the four of them would be able to get together enough lien from odd-jobs to afford to travel, even if they planned to do more jobs as they moved like Ruby had mentioned her group had done while traversing the continents.

"She probably already does."

_Shit_.

"But I'm not the one who told her, nor will I be if you don't want me to."

_Phew._ It was a relief to know that at least one cousin wasn't working against him.

"So what else have you been up to? I guess you've been spending a lot of time with that faunus brat from Vacuo that Lionheart made your team leader? He was off gallivanting in Menagerie with the Belladonnas, right?"

"He's a cool guy, Pit. I'm even starting to look forward to seeing Vacuo, he says it has a totally different everything than any other Kingdom."

"Yeah, every Kingdom has a totally unique situation. You went to Vale: they're not much like us, either."

"Well, we do share the fact that neither one of us has a functioning huntsman academy."

That earned him a small frown from Pit. "I'm sure that Headmaster Beige will have Haven up and running again in no time. He will pull some folks down from Sanctum to fill out the staff, recall a few older sentries from the hinterlands..."

"Leaving those areas undefended," Neptune countered. "I heard that bandits and grimm are tearing up the countryside and we don't even have a way to hear about it until weeks later."

"Who told you that?" Piter asked calmly while he moved some of his pieces around on the board, put a card facedown that was probably another annoying trap which Nep's cards would force him to walk right into like the past two times, and looked back up smugly.

"Some of Sun and I's friends who came from that way. They said that Shion is gone."

Piter looked away. _Is that shame?_ "It's your move to play." Neptune took that as confirmation of the message he had heard through the grapevine: Ruby had told Blake, who had mentioned it to Sun, who had told Scarlet, who had told Neptune. Neptune hadn't been sure how much truth to the story there had been after it had been filtered through Scarlet, but his cousin's reaction told him that there had not been any exaggeration to the tragedy.

Neptune played his turn, the deck not doing him any favours. He could play as smart as he wanted but it was like he was getting every bad or useless card in the deck. If he hadn't chosen to play as Vacuo, some of these cards would have been great. If he'd been playing Mantle like he usually preferred, he'd have won the game seventeen turns ago, easily.

"So, it's true?"

Piter nodded. "After Beacon, things got bad here. Not anywhere got as bad as in Vale, but we have so much more territory. The experts say we lost more from the Fall of Beacon than Vale did. Mistral hasn't been this weak since we lost the war."

_And when we lost the war, the victor was human enough to have mercy towards us._ Neptune again wondered if things would have gone differently if, rather than helping Blake in Menagerie, Sun had instead come with the rest of -SSN and helped out in Mistral after the tragedy. _I can't keep thinking like that. We kept a few towns along the northern coastline safe after we touched down, we did good and helped many people survive while we waited for Sun to resurface..._ It was poetic, in a sombre way. Neptune had known people in Shion, though. His childhood friends had gone hiking, camping out there. It had been considered safe, scenic even.

"We're not even sure if it was bandits or grimm. Maybe both." Piter added sourly, clearly distressed at the lack of communication in the Kingdom.

"Bandits like the ones that Raven Branwen leads?" Neptune asked, "Raven, who was part of the attack on the school?"

"That wasn't in the papers..." Piter said with a grimace, "I'm guessing your sources are the same as the Beacon kids who were at that fight?"

Neptune nodded, "but the papers say that Raven saved a train of civilians a few days later. What's going on, Pit?"

"It's complicated, and nothing that you need to worry yourself over. I'm dealing with it. The important thing for now is that Haven still stands."

"If Taurus and Cinder and whatever other terrorists had succeeded at Haven-" Neptune started, wanting to share his personal suspicions about Sun's latest charity case from the transit hub. _Dominic_. Just like with Belladonna, Sun was always getting mixed up in the worst of it and dragged his team along with him whenever he could. _"You should always get friends involved!"_ Sun had told team RWBY after barging into their dorm room - through their window like a total creep, Neptune would add - after convincing Neptune to climb up the building with him. _"How else are the two of us going to get into the girls' dorm?"_ He had argued before their stunt and before the two of them had learned that the dorms were co-ed. That felt like it had happened years ago, when things were so different. When the world still thought it was at peace. When things made sense.

Piter cut in quickly, "Vale was merciful when they won the war. I doubt the animals would have been so kind if Haven was destroyed. The faunus here are just waiting for a sign that humanity is weak, that we're on the verge of making another mistake like at Fort Castle." Piter moved his forces forward, going on what seemed to be the final offensive, and ended his turn. "Grandmother thinks we've tolerated them living outside of Menagerie for just about long enough..."

"You're wrong about the faunus. I've spent enough time with Sun to get that. I have nothing against Menagerie, but Mistral can't just evict all those people. They're people, Piter! Good people, or as much as humans are. They're hardworking, intelligent, kind..."

"Don't forget what kind you are, dear cousin," Piter warned, "your mind is on elsewhere, when it should be centered on home." He prodded his own pieces, bravely defending blue Mistral on the game board.

_He's right, a bit. My mind and team have been focused on Vacuo so much lately, even while we've been assisting here._ He looked at his older cousin, the stocky, chiselled physique that just loved to be photographed. Neptune was handsome, certainly, but Piter was just... more so. He acted so mature, even though he was only several years the elder, so dignified. Regal, one wouldn't be criticized for saying. All that Neptune could say that he had that his cousin didn't have more of was worldly experience: he'd traveled across Mistral and even as far as Vale, while Piter had remained here in the city with Grandmother and the rest. When they'd met and decided to play Remnant, Piter had let Neptune choose what Kingdom he wanted to play as: normally they decided it randomly, or rolled to see who would get to choose first. Neptune had automatically chosen Vacuo, feeling like he may as well start getting in the wasteland mindset, despite his typical past preference for playing Solitas-based states. _Did he know I was going to pick Vacuo? He's becoming more like grandmother already._

"Grandmother's not always right about everything, and one day we're all going to have to learn to see the world for what it is on our own." Neptune exhaled deeply, then took the entire deck into his hands and shuffled it, despite the fact that they had not even gotten halfway through the deck. He kept his eyes locked on his opponent's as he did so. "Sometimes all you need to succeed is a little change of attitude."

As expected, Piter's eyes went wide for a moment as he watched what Neptune did. There was no rule _against_ reshuffling the deck in the midst of the game before it ran out. There certainly were rules against stacking the deck in your favour, but Neptune wasn't going to call him out on it today. He'd just accept the cheating - however he had managed to do it - as a handicap. He finished shuffling and moved his pieces out of his turtle-strategy, put down one of his useless cards and drew a new one from the fresh deck.

He didn't hide his delight at seeing the card he had picked up. Some might say he even exaggerated it.

Piter saw his reaction and made a tiny little frown, imperceptible to anyone who had not known him for years, then pulled out his buzzing scroll. "As much fun as this has been, little cousin, duty calls. It seems like the chieftain is making preparations for departure at last, and it just wouldn't be proper to let him leave without proper fanfare. We can finish this game later, or just call it a draw? Or you could concede defeat..."

Neptune rolled his eyes, acting as best as he could as if his cousin was asking some huge favour of him, "I suppose we can call it a draw this time." The card he'd picked up would not have saved his butt from a loss - though it could have been the start of a nice turn-around, but his aggressive unit movement and trademark smirk had insinuated otherwise. He'd take a draw and be on the lookout next time for similar dirty tricks from his relative. The real victory was his anyways: he'd stumbled into Piter's clever trap and gotten out with his no-loss streak unbroken.

Neptune stood up and opened his arms up and hugged his cousin tightly. "This has been nice. I'll see you again before I leave."

"Don't forget to tell grandmother that you're going to Vacuo."

Neptune released his embrace and sighed. "I'll probably get a new version of the speech she gave me when she found out I was going to Vale for the Vytal Festival with just my teammates."

Crown Prince Jupiter nodded in agreement, then strode away to the palace door where his personal guards were silently waiting for him. "You could have taken some extra bodies for that, too. You could also make getting to Vacuo a bit safer and easier, too, if you would just..."

"Yeah, not yet. I'm still my mother's son." Neptune said, crossing his arms. "Now off you go, get back to your statecraft and make sure Belladonna leaves with a good impression with us, at least."

The Crown Prince left with his entourage, leaving Neptune alone to consider things for a moment alone.

Neptune smiled and looked back over the valley, sunlight dazzling as it reflected off the nearby mountains and rivers to where he stood in the Royal Garden. He drank in the sight, wary of how homesick he would feel whenever Sun managed to drag him to Vacuo, before one of the palace servants came to escort him outside. _If Dominic is who I suspect he is, I wonder if I should have mentioned to Piter..._

Well, it was too late now anyways. The business of running the city had interrupted Neptune's opportunity to bring up the topic with his kin. Next time, perhaps. Just like with the deck, Neptune didn't want to make any accusations before he was certain of his correctness.

Besides, Adam Taurus was just a single man.

If what 'Dominic' had said was true, he was just trying to get out of Mistral to get back to Vale. _No harm in leaving a cornered beast alone when we've got immediate problems_.

~J~

**Cammy**

Cammy wiped her brow before collapsing onto the motel bed. She and Bole had spent all day interviewing people on the streets, getting as much ground-level information as they could. Bole followed her through the door, laid the camera on one of the other beds, and stumbled into the bathroom. She had argued for separate rooms, but Bole had reminded her that the station was paying expenses and would review the spending. Sage had said that, as her bodyguard, it would be easier for him and Scarlet to protect a single room rather than two.

The bodyguards, having followed them around all day doing nothing to earn any lien but still probably getting more than Cammy, played an impromptu game of rock-paper-scissors, which Scarlet seemed to win. He leapt over to his bed and flumphed down on it with a smile. Catching sight of Cammy's confused stare, he explained: "easiest way to decide who takes first watch."

"First watch?" Cammy asked, more confused now.

"Can't have some shady folks getting the drop on us while we sleep, can we?" He laughed, "the camera has such valuable bits on it now after your day's work." He idly rubbed the hilt of his cutlass.

"So I'll take first watch and make sure you sleep safely." Sage said, pulling out his giant sword and aiming it at the door playfully, spinning it in his hands playfully before resheathing it. "We did it last night after checking in to the room, but you sort of went right to sleep without noticing our _professionalism_ and _dedication_ to your safety."

"But the door's locked," Cammy argued.

"You're a reporter and you've never picked a lock?" Scarlet mocked while folding his heavy red jacket over a nightstand, then his band and single glove, leaving him in his white pants and tank top with the bandana around his neck.

"I'm not a criminal!"

He chuckled. "Aw, sweet pretty Cammy, so blissfully innocent!" He laid down on the bed like he hadn't a care in the world, "never change, darling."

"Don't worry, Miss Obscura, I'll keep anything naughty away from you so you can have nice dreams until morning!" Sage comforted, then added slyly, "or, at least, until it's Scarlet's turn to take watch."

Cammy didn't feel safe at all! If anything, she felt less safe now that she had been reassured of their diligence against the previously unconsidered things that she had to be kept safe from.

Bole emerged from the bathroom as Cammy was pulling her pyjamas out of her duffel bag.

"Fair warning: you might want to let that fan have a go at the bathroom for a couple 'o minutes, folks," he said.

Cammy looked at her pyjamas. "Well, I need to change into my pyjamas so I guess I'll have to brave it..." She moved cautiously towards the closed door and opened it gingerly.

The huntsmen had another quick chuckle at her expense as she balked at the lingering odour, stepping back out of the room hastily. Sage covered his mouth with his hand when she looked at him sternly. When she turned the same gaze on Scarlet, it only made him guffaw louder. _Well at least someone's having a good trip among the four of us._

"I warned ya," Bole said shamelessly.

"You did," said Scarlet, "I guess I'll take your warning for what it's worth." He pulled off his top in one smooth motion. Like his partner, he had well-defined abs. Pale. Shiny from walking around behind her all day in the sun... Cammy realized she was just standing in the bathroom doorway staring at the guy's gut.

"Scarlet!" Cammy shrieked in delayed alarm. She pointed at Bole, "he gave me warning, couldn't you do me the same favour?"

"I don't mind you looking," Scarlet purred while his hands moved up to the back of his chest to assault his bandana's tie, making his chest bulge with the stretched muscles. Cammy stole another peek before trying to avert her gaze.

"Be professional!"

Sage laughed, "which profession do you want him to be? You have your choice between clown and buffoon."

"Hey, I have actual skills!" Scarlet protested, though Cammy found little evidence from what she knew of him so far to support his claim.

"Screw this, do what you want I'm not your bleeding mum," Cammy seethed. She forced her way back into the bathroom to change, muttering that she "wasn't being paid any extra to babysit". When she emerged - gasping for fresh air and regretting letting Bole try the local burrito menu - Scarlet had settled under his bed covers and was apparently reading a magazine about magazines; as if he needed to read about _more _ammunition, the man was already an arsenal.

Cammy thought about getting herself a weapon, but they were pricey and she'd need training...

Bole had settled into his own bed, the camera equipment carefully placed on the floor beside.

"I'll be back in five, just going to get a coffee from the lobby since I'm going to be up for a few more hours." Sage left, leaving the door closed but unlocked.

_Now they've just got me feeling nervous_, Cammy cursed. She kept her eye on the door, her mind creatively creating horrible possible reasons for heavily armed criminals to burst in to threaten her group.

_That story I wrote about industrial workplace accident victim remuneration rubbed someone the wrong way so they put a hit out on me!_ Bang, bang, Cammy dead in a motel room. Her grandparents weeping at her funeral, the boss regretting sending her out here so soon after her previous traumatic experience.

_That interview I did with the playwright went too well; he shouldn't have mentioned his upcoming production being cancelled by the censorship bureau!_ Slice, chop, stab, Cammy should have gone to see her grandparents instead of working the story on the main street all day. She'd see them tomorrow - if she lived through the night! Sage and Scarlet were taking all of this way too seriously. The military had cleared Kuchinashi, everything here was safe, right?

Then why had the boss sent her here with two armed guards? Maybe that camera really was worth that much...

A knock came on the door, making Cammy scream in terror. Scarlet leapt out of his bed, pistol in hand. Seeing the pistol made Cammy even more afraid, and while the rational part of her brain told her mouth to close, the majority of the grey mush in her head sent the signal to scream louder.

Scarlet David laughed.

"Wow, yer a right wound up filly ain't ya?" He walked over to the door, "it's probably just Sage getting back. Did he lock his sorry arse out again?" He opened the door, shaking his head as he prepared a pitying speech for his keycard-forgetting teammate. "Oi. You're not Sage."

It wasn't the other member of team SSSN waiting on the other side of the threshold.

Instead, a small girl in a wrinkled dress stood there holding several cheap motel bath towels. Her wide eyes glistened in the light, contrasted against the gloaming sky behind her. Cammy's adrenaline-fuelled perception shot up and down the girl, seeking the weapon of assassination her troubled mind was certain it would find there. Instead of a length of piano wire or poisoned knives, Cammy could only discern that the girl seemed to be the motel-owner's daughter bringing towels for the room, her hand-written name tag barely legible (the 'h' in her name was written backwards) but readable as 'Rothy'.

And that the girl wore no shoes: cloven feet, a faunus.

Scarlet took the towels in one hand, keeping the hand holding the pistol hidden behind the door. "Thanks a peach, little one." He turned around and shrugged, "nothing to get all worked up about, boss lady." He turned back around and seemed surprised to see the faunus waif still there, "what else do you want?"

"...just wanted to know if everything else is to your satisfaction, mister!"

Cammy let out a long sigh of relief. She pulled out her scroll as her redhead bodyguard politely dismissed the child and closed the door, and set an alarm reminder to see her grandparents first thing in the morning. If she was lucky, she could ditch the weapon-toting lunatics who'd been assigned to 'protect' her.

~J~

It was a new sort of challenge, introducing her posse to her grandparents. Her shoddy attempts to explain how long they had known each other - "just the past couple days, professionally" - and why the SSSN boys were armed - "the situation in Kuchinashi was unclear to those in the city" - had raised her grandfather's eyebrow with concern. He didn't say anything, but Cammy knew he didn't like having any of her coworkers around. He'd probably have even more concerns if he knew that she was staying with the three boys at the C'Lovin Motel across town. Grandma just happily served tea and gossiped with Scarlet about the season's fashions in the city.

"So did the grimm make it this far into the city? Were you safe during the attack?" She had so many questions she would rather be asking them instead of answering their questions of her and her irregular companions.

"I heard that they scaled the walls and fought some of the defenders there, but they seemed to be intent on just running around the perimeter." Grandfather said, "the guards said it was almost like target practice for them, if it weren't for the sheer improbability of it and the danger posed by that many critters. They haven't told people like us anything about why the grimm attacked or the like. I recommend you go talk to them before they head out for patrols, or when they get back tonight, because gran and I were in the shelter through it all."

Cammy checked her scroll for the time; _no chance I'd make it over to the barracks before they leave_. "I suppose I'll have to hit them up for that scoop later. Until then I guess I can just collect some more interviews about how the citizens dealt with the attack within the walls. You know, get the personal character angle that the military report... lacks." _Reading the military report, an outsider would be surprised to learn that Kuchinashi was a town with living people rather than a warehouse full of supplies; the way they constantly refer to 'local assets' and 'loss accounting' was so dry and borderline mechanical sometimes. _The Mistral armed forces had retained a bit of the old Mantle mentality from the Great War, repressing emotion and human feeling amongst its ranks despite the kingdom's loss a century prior. Cammy couldn't complain about it too much, of course, since it gave her a job!

Grandfather looked at Bole, specifically at the big camera, "do you want to interview us?"

"I wasn't planning to," Cammy admitted, "I just wanted to stop by since I was back in town to make sure you were doing well. If you want to be interviewed, I could..." She let the offer hang in the air for a moment.

"That would be just like when you were little, playing reporter!" Grandma said happily. Grandfather didn't seem as enthusiastic.

"If you were in the bunker for the entirety of the attack," Cammy began, continuing to offer her retired grandfather an easy out.

"We really wouldn't have much that would be interesting to say to the city folks," Grandfather finished, taking the lifeline. "It was a tense, tightly packed concrete room where we tried to keep quiet and calm. Not much more to say. People were scared, but we're still here."

Bole lifted up the camera, "wow, that sounded really good actually. Could you say that again while I've got the camera running?"

The elder man scratched his head, "it was kinda spur-of-the-moment, friend. I don't think I could get the words again the same way..."

"It's fine, there'll be other people we'll see today with the same experience as you," Cammy interceded. "Speaking of which, no need to keep you two any longer so we may as well be on our way. Job to do and such. Thanks for the tea!"

Minutes later Cammy and her team were back on the streets heading to the main downtown stretch, as small as it was compared to the big city streets she had gotten used to, where there was the best chance of finding people loafing about with nothing better to do than talk to a camera.

"So you grew up there, hmm?" inquired Sage, "was a nice place. I've been here before, never for long."

"Yeah, my parents died when I was a little so my grandparents took me in."

"They're a sweet old couple," added Scarlet, "but they had no weapons in the house. They trust the local guards that much?"

"Not everyone trains to fight. Some of us have to work to keep others fed, entertained." _Not all of us can walk through a town armed to the teeth and feel safer for it._

"I don't think I could aim a gun anywhere near as well as I aim my camera," Bole admitted, surprising Cammy by coming to her defense.

"Few people know until they have to try," Sage said darkly.

"Catch!" Scarlet called out suddenly as he lobbed his pistol underhanded towards Bole.

The butt of the pistol slammed hard into the guy's face with a brutal crunch: dedication to holding the precious camera overriding the instinct to catch the projectile, kept him standing firmly in place. Cammy shielded her body with her hands, expecting the pistol to fire off as it hit the ground.

"The job, Scarlet... we need to get paid for this, remember? Remember: protection?" Sage scolded, facepalming himself to cover his eyes from his partner's antics, while said partner broke out in a riot of laughter. He picked up the pistol then slapped Cammy on the back in what the man likely imagined were comforting pats. _His hands are the size of my head!_

"Ah, loosen up, Sage. It wasn't loaded, and it can't just fire because it falls on the ground," he told Cammy, "you really don't know anything about guns. Good thing you're _entertaining_!" He looked at Cammy with an unreadable look, maybe condescension, then turned around to deal with Sage as the dark-skinned boy tore a strip off him for hurting Bole. Cammy massaged her back, hoping that the man's walloping would not give her a bruise.

"Scarlet, most people can't take a hit like that. Not everyone is like the people you grew up with, you have to learn that many people are a bit more... delicate."

Bole, paying little heed to the emasculating terms used to describe his strength, instead came up to her and asked, "are you okay, ma'am?"

Cammy nodded and returned with a query about his face. "It hit you square in the nose, are you alright?"

Bole carefully set the camera down and felt his face curiously, then looked back up with a simple expression. "I've still got my sniffer working, I should be okay." A stream of blood trailed out of one nostril, but he seemed to not notice.

"We should get some ice on that..." Cammy began, "you're bleeding."

"Nonsense, ma'am, I'd hate to impede your work." He wiped his nose on the cuff of his shirt sleeve, picked up the camera and gave Cammy a thumbs-up. "We're on the clock, here, and nobody's going to see me on this side of the lens!"

Scarlet slid up to Bole and hooked his arm over Bole's shoulder, "aw, see Sage, you don't know what yer on about, he's a toughie! He knows it was all in fun!" Cammy had to give Bole some approval: the guy didn't flinch at Scarlet's sudden embrace. If that had been her, she'd probably be handling it a lot worse. _I guess that makes me the weakest of the group_. It was a terrific feeling that Cammy was getting used to. Weakest member of the group. Weakest student in the class. Newest reporter in the office.

_Double rate, Cammy. You're doing this for double rate, don't forget._ She just had to focus on what she could buy with that fat paycheque and ignore the nonsense she had to put up with in the meantime. Double rate meant more things, more things meant more status, more status meant better life.

"I'm sorry for that," Sage apologized, "I'm sure Scarlet didn't mean to injure you with his immature, poorly conceived japery." He held Bole's head and examined the blood for a moment.

"It's fine," Bole managed as the huntsmen swarmed over him, "it wasn't the worst I've had to endure on the job."

"The blood does seem to have stopped..." Sage stated, pulling away from the cameraguy. "Let's just move past this little incident, then."

Sage's eyes narrowed, and he kept his gaze on Scarlet and Bole. Scarlet seemed to notice, and released his ward from the long-past-awkward embrace.

"Hurry up, Bole's right. We're on the clock and we need to get these interviews filmed before people settle back into their lives too much to remember the moments of the attack." Cammy wasn't sure that was possible: she certainly wouldn't forget the emotions of that train ride, but it did put a fire under her crew and get them to release her apparently-no-longer-bleeding camera operator from their unwanted attention.

~J~

**Rover**

The ice in the cup had melted. He wanted to drink it, he wanted to just let the day waste away in a haze like the one before. And the one before that. His head was already swimming from the two bottles he had already finished off. He reached across the bar and grabbed some of the assorted nuts from a bowl. At no point did he consider that the bar having an open bowl of nuts could be a health hazard to people with allergies, and it was obvious that the owner shared his lack of concern.

He wanted to drink the rest of the alcohol in his cup, he wanted to be able to spend all the lien he'd made on his last job for the government on forgetting what he'd seen in those tunnels. _Faunus, women, men, children, torn apart by grimm_. He'd never hated faunus, he'd never loved faunus. He just was looking out for himself, doing his job on the frontier. Had to pay the bills, had to put his years at Haven to use. His license was like a lodestone, heavy in his backpocket. Weighing him down, tying him to others with high ideals of responsibility and duty.

Leonardo Lionheart had been a faunus. Lionheart had told him and his graduating class that they were the front line against evil in the world. Lionheart had trained them to be protectors of civilization.

Now Lionheart was dead.

Adam Taurus had been a faunus, too. Taurus had been an evil in the world. Taurus had tried to destroy human civilization, everyone said.

Now Taurus was dead.

Rover had gotten well paid by the military to accompany them into the tunnels that had once been the White Fang headquarters. His semblance, which he called '_Nonscents'_ \- a childish name that had just stuck - had made him the _"perfect person for the job, Mr Rover__"_. His semblance had confirmed their suspicions: Adam Taurus had come here after his defeat at Haven. His emotional mix of confusion and hatred had been like a neon sign for Rover to read. He'd followed Adam Taurus' trail into the deepest recesses of the complex, finding a garish throne room.

Finding more bodies, congealed blood. A severed throne.

He preferred fighting grimm. No mess. No guilt. Fighting grimm was so much easier than fighting flesh and blood people. He hated politics, and fighting people always involved politics. He'd only even bothered to be in the loathsome city to see Lionheart, having gotten a delayed message from over a month ago that Lionheart had an important huntsman task for him and needed him to come back to the city as soon as possible. Without the CCT, messages like that arrived slowly, if they arrived at all. He'd learned that Lionheart had been pulling huntsmen back for jobs from all over the hinterlands for a while.

He'd learned that he had missed many funerals. _I guess we never thought about how cheap it would be to cater our twenty-fifth class reunion when we graduated._

When Rover had finally answered Lionheart's call, he found that he made it into the city just in time for his old professor's funeral. He'd stuck around for that out of respect, of course, though that had proven itself to have been a mistake. That had been where the military officers had cornered him, made him an offer he wouldn't refuse. He could have refused the lien. He lived simply enough, his family was taken care of. Naming a building at Haven after him, though? It was an honour he couldn't have conceived of having bestowed upon him. They had said that it was in recognition of his years of service to Mistral, and he could have tried to convince himself that it was true. He certainly deserved it after all this time! But he had known they were desperate to track down Taurus and put an end to him. He'd given them that end.

Nonscents told him that Adam Taurus had ended in that throne room.

Dogs could be trained to hunt a man by scent, but they could be fooled by running water or overpowering spices and other tricks. Rover's semblance let him attune himself to a person, to what he believed was their very character or being, and trace their steps. There were some of his peers who called him a psychic - not that he was some sort of mind-reader. Nonscents had never been fooled, but it took a lot of concentration and something tied to them by a strong emotional bond. He couldn't use it to track over long distances, but if he was at a place where a person to whom he was attuned had been, he could sense where they had gone (and sometimes an inkling of why, which helped continue the chase). Needless to say, he'd always been jealous of his fellow students with more combat-oriented semblances. All he wanted to do in life was destroy the creatures of grimm, keep people safe.

When he had told the military how his semblance worked, they had provided him with a disarmed explosive and one of the terrorist masks taken from one of the faunus captured by the police at Haven. It hadn't been enough. He'd needed more. They'd spoken with the faunus leader, Belladonna, and then came back to Rover with a can of tuna.

He'd sensed Taurus with those three items. He had joined the military as they raided the White Fang base, where they suspected Taurus was holed up, though it had already fallen to the creatures of grimm.

The ice in his cup was melted now, but he couldn't drink anymore. He wanted to focus on what the man beside him at the bar was saying.

"Say that again," he urged the also-intoxicated barfly, trying to keep his vision from blurring, trying to keep his wits about him despite the alcohol in his blood.

"So I'll be opening my mine back up any day now, any day, got word from my correspondent in the city that he's got some boys eager for mining work. I am going out to Kuchinashi to meet them, lead them back here to Ilhari, then out to the mine. Always work for a trained fighter, though the pay might be meager at first." The man blabbered.

"No, no no. Not about that. About the man you saw in here a couple days after Lionheart was killed. You said he had red hair?"

"Yeah, yeah. Yeah! Red hair, but he hid it under a hoodie. He was traveling with two others."

Rover looked to the barkeep to verify the man's claims, but the man shrugged noncommittally. "I served a few folks that day, but spent most of it taking care of this guy." He patted the bar affectionately, "Farsigan's been a good customer and friend for years now."

"Bah, you're just saying that because you know I'll be rich soon!" Farsigan accused, though there was no anger in his tone.

Rover broke up their interaction, insisting "the man: did the man wear a mask?"

"No, no. He wore a blindfold. One of his companions, an eyepatch. The other one was further down the bar, didn't see her face, but had a nice butt." Farsigan straightened himself up and looked sternly at the barkeep, and in an accusatory tone slurred, "you had a conversation with him about the mayor's plan to expand the palisade!"

"Hmmm." He looked at the ceiling for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess I did. He was asking a lot of questions about opportunities for faunus to move out here from the city. The grimm have been acting all strange-like, so it seems like as good a time as any to expand. Or, it did seem that way before Kuchinashi was attacked." The bartender leaned over and added, "I don't think that one furthest away from you was a lady, either, Fars. I think it was just a guy in drag."

"Kuchinashi's fine, I tol' ya, I've got boys coming out there that I've gotta meet to work in my mine. Grand re-opening! I'll be rich and a proper gentleman." Rover stood up from the bar, leaving the pair to their argument.

_A redheaded man in disguise heading away from the fallen White Fang base._ Rover could have ignored the prospector's tale, gone back to his life protecting the frontier. Nonscents had never failed him before. Even so, his gut told him not to discount the man's words. Lionheart was dead, and Taurus had had a hand in it. Maybe he owed his professor's memory this much.

Rover canvassed the hamlet, asking the locals if they could add anything to Farsigan's story after the man passed out in the bar. Within hours, he'd heard enough to convince himself Adam Taurus may not be dead. Somehow, the faunus had managed to discover a means of fooling Nonscents. Rover found his pride and sense of duty compelling him to see his job through.

Also, a bit of fear that if the government found out he'd been wrong, they'd think he'd lied to them. _No way I want to label myself as aiding a terrorist escape their clutches_.

Rover found himself driving back to Kuchinashi at blinding speed to retrace his quarry's path by conventional means; he'd have to do this without his semblance until he could find items that were emotionally powerful enough to connect to Taurus again. The people of Ilhari had said the covert faunus and his companions had ridden the train. _What if Adam had been somehow responsible for the attack on the settlement?_ Rover had to get back into network range. He'd tell the military what he'd found out as soon as possible; even if it had just been some White Fang deserters that had a masculine redhead or two in the group, he'd have his bases covered. Though it might tarnish his reputation a bit. He was willing to deal with that so long as they couldn't hold it against him if Taurus did turn up later on. _I'll just tell them that I'm concerned that Taurus may have devised a way to evade my semblance. Nothing concrete._ He just had to make sure he was the first one to break the news, lest he find himself in a cell or worse: a noose.

_Everything will be fine_, he assured himself right before his vehicle swerved off the road into the woods, the alcohol he'd guzzled earlier slowing his reflexes and perception on the dark road just enough that he didn't hug the sudden, hidden turn. He barely had time to choose a proper bit of profanity to shout before his car tumbled down into the ravine.

~J~

**Cammy**

They'd gotten a solid four hours of taped interviews; that'd be enough for a solid ten minute segment after editing. Maybe a couple segments over a few days. _I'm going to be on every scroll in the city!_ Cammy was feeling a lot better now, she was in her element. Reporting, investigating, compiling information and stories. Weaving the disparate narratives into a single thread, a tale that could be told to the masses of the city so that they understood what had happened here.

Sage had reminded her that the local militia should be back at their barracks, so she'd led the team over there. She knew the guy guarding the gate, they'd gone through school together. He let her and her crew in without any fuss. Procedures in outlying settlements were always so much more lax than city barracks when it came to allowing media in. She sat down with soldiers as they ate in their mess hall, talking with them about the night of the attack.

"Grimm flying around the walls, running around, heedless of our guns. A regular old turkey shoot it was. I haven't had so many kills in my entire career!"

"We made sport to see who could peg the most lancers once we realized they were not going to swarm down on us."

"It was eerie."

"Mitch over there, our medic, was pissing himself the whole time, worried about how he'd sent his faunus bitch and spawn to get on the train. Bugger went crazy when he saw the grimm all chasing after it rather than coming into the town... of course we're all happy the train made it to city safely, mind you..."

"It's nice to have all the city soldiers out of here. They had this entire place in lockdown, made us feel like we were prisoners who'd done something wrong."

"I built my own safe bunker under the apartment building I inherited from my aunt, tenants all hid down there. They're always complaining I charge them too much, I don't think I'll hear their belly aching for a few months."

"Yeah, especially with all our huntsmen scattered. Your tenants might get their lien's worth and we'll have to earn our pay!"

The camera rolling, Cammy listened to soldiers' thoughts on the attack, asking questions when necessary to keep the conversation on topic. They seemed to be in good spirits, overall, though many seemed concerned that any change was a harbinger of disaster. If attacks like this were going to become more regular, it could make their jobs a lot more difficult. The specter of the consequences of Beacon's fall loomed over everyone.

"What a fool I was, sending my wife with my daughter to board that train. Sure, it managed to make it but only just... if anything had happened to my daughter..."

"Or your wife," Cammy reminded him.

"My wife didn't get a place on board. Only enough room for little Rothy, they said, unable to turn away children, my wife was willing to do anything to get our precious little girl away safely, even if it meant sending her alone. Even if it meant staying behind." Mitch replied, "if I had lost her, I can't imagine what my life would be like. Do you have kids?"

"No, not yet."

"I have a nephew," Bole offered. "I love him like a younger brother..."

"I was on that train, there wasn't much room to stand." Cammy told him. _The conductor did what he could, in desperate times..._

"Of course he let _you_ on. You're _human_. My wife, she's faunus. It's hard for them out here, people see them for their differences instead of who they are. They've got hearts, they've got love, just like any of us. She couldn't even get a job when she first came out here. I started seeing her, then convinced my parents to give her a job helping out at their motel. Now she runs the place since they passed. Smartest girl I know, great with numbers."

Things clicked into place for Cammy, her investigator's mind whirring to life. "Your family wouldn't happen to operate the C-Lovin' Motel would they?"

"Yeah, they do."

Cammy had never noted much who owned the place, since being a local - whose grandparents ensured she didn't hang out with any boys that might want to take her to the motel commonly referred to as the 'Cheap Loving Motel' - she had never stayed there before. Now she knew.

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, we're actually staying there! While we do our assignment in town."

"Ah, thank you for your patronage!" She noted his eyes briefly slid away from her to regard the three men accompanying her, then refocused on Cammy.

The C-Lovin' Motel was the closest cheap place to sleep for travelers getting on or off at the train station, which Cammy explained to Mitch as the reason why she had settled for it to lodge at; it also answered why the faunus proprietress and her daughter had been close enough to beat the desperate throng of people for the youngster to get on board the train when grimm hit the walls.

Before Cammy could get the conversation back to the topic of the grimm attack, his scroll began to ring. "If you'll excuse me, it sounds like my wife is calling." He answered the call, "hi sweetie, how was your day?"

He made no effort to keep the call private, letting Cammy hear his wife's voice come through clearly. "Babe, a big guy just bought a room and has a really hurt fellow with him. He is all bandaged up, but he needs some sort of attention so I thought..."

"It's fine, dear, we just got back from our patrol exercises and were finishing up dinner here. I can drive on over in one of the ambulances now. See you soon." The call ended. "Hey, if you're done your interviews I can give you a ride in the back. Consider it thanks for your patronage of the motel?"

Cammy accepted enthusiastically: it sure beat forcing poor Bole to carry that camera back across the town. "Why would the guy bring a hurt person to the motel rather than here, or one of the clinics? Why didn't your wife call a clinic?"

Mitch shrugged as he donned his uniform and moved towards the garage, "the motel's closer to the south wall of town than the clinic, and the clinics aren't known for prioritizing calls from faunus." He shouted to one of the sergeants that he was taking one of the vehicles across town for a injured person, the sergeant gave him a thumbs-up gesture before going back to gawk perversely at a magazine he held sideways and would, in Cammy's opinion, be blurred if Bole's recording of him made it to air when this was all over. _Disgusting_, Cammy thought. _Who reads that sort of filth? Who? Who writes it, even?_ Cammy felt a bit of pride, knowing that for all her faults, at least she would never stoop so low as to pose for such pictures or write such trash.

"Aw man, this month's issue is out already?" Scarlet whispered behind her, spotting the sergeant's illiterature as well, "they must print it locally..."

_Double rate_, she reminded herself. Sleeping in the same room as that unreasonably handsome pervert for _double rate._ She felt like she deserved that lien already.

One short ride later, they piled out into the motel parking lot. Mitch's wife, the familiar faunus manager, came out looking frazzled. "They're in room 104!" The daughter clung to the back of her mother's apron strings, watching the people emerging from the ambulance with wide doe eyes that almost matched her cloven feet. "Rothy, go sweep something with the broom. The parking lot. Sweep the lot, get all these expended shell casings swept into a pile. Watch out for any that still have any dust in them. Don't get in your father's way, he has work to do!" The pair of them went off to room 104.

"We going to see the injured guy, Cammy?" Asked Scarlet.

Instead of answering, Cammy watched the young hoofed faunus girl busy herself with the ragged straw broom, brushing the debris littered through that remained from the town's defenses being fired at grimm. She turned to Bole and ordered him, "hey, get a shot of the little girl cleaning up the mess. Focus on the empty dust shell casings from the fight." Cammy moved towards the girl.

"Sure thing, boss!" Bole replied, hoisting up his heavy device and fiddling with it as it sprung to life.

Rothy looked up in confusion as Cammy's long evening shadow glided onto the ground she was ineffectively trying to clear; her skill with the oversized broom was lacking.

"Hey there, you're Rothy, right? Mitch's daughter?" Cammy waited until the little girl gave a shy nod. "I interviewed him for a big city news story, and he told me that you were really brave on the train to the city, the one that told the military about the grimm attack so that they could send help. Is that true?" Another shy nod. The girl gripped hard on the broom; Cammy realized she must have brought the memories of that day back to the forefront of the young girl's mind. "I know it was really scary - I was on the train, too. My grandparents raised me on the other side of town, I was on my way back to the city from a vacation to visit them on the train."

Rothy made eye contact with Cammy, her round-eyed stare unwavering. "I wasn't scared for me, I was scared for daddy. He was on the wall, which is really tall and I don't like heights..." she pointed to the nearby city wall from which the casings she had been instructed to sweep had flown down. "I was safe, but I saw all the monsters in the sky when my mommy was taking me to the train station." She put the broom up against a parked car that Cammy hadn't seen in the lot in the morning; the vehicle's windshield was horribly fractured and there were deep gouges along its sides, as if it had been thrown into a blender by accident at some point.

"I wanna go watch daddy now!" the girl said suddenly, her sombre mood suddenly lifting, abandoning her duties with the broom entirely and prancing towards room 104.

Cammy moved after her, trying to continue the conversation. "There sure were a lot of grimm chasing the train, though," Cammy offered. "It's okay to admit that _that_ was scary."

The girl shook her head, "no, I was never in any danger once I got on the train. He made sure that nothing bad would happen to me." Rothy opened the door and rushed up to her father, who was busying himself with examining a grubby looking fellow wrapped in bandages made of what Cammy assessed were his own torn clothes. _This girl must still be in that whole hero-worship phase for her father_, Cammie thought as she heard the certainty in what Rothy said.

"You shouldn't be in here right now, Rothy." Mitch warned her, but he made no effort to remove her. Noises from the bathroom indicated that his wife was washing something off in the sink. Mitch began swabbing the numerous lacerations on the man's chest with a cloth that smelled of disinfectant. Cammy slipped off her shoes at the doorway, since it was polite to do so when entering a room even if nobody else did. She could forgive Mitch for his lack of decorum, since his medical skills were more important than courtesy, but Cammy had no such excuse. _Rothy and her mother work hard to keep these rooms clean_!

"He said faunus have to protect each other, but since not all of us can he'll protect the ones who can't because he is strong enough to." Rothy continued, ignoring her father's meager attempt to shield her from one of life's harsh realities.

"Your daddy is big and strong," Cammie agreed, "but certainly he wants to protect you and your mom here most of all, not to mention he has an important job for Kuchinashi..."

Rothy giggled, "not daddy, silly miss. He wasn't my train seat-buddy. I knew he was a faunus, too, and I got to sit beside him because nobody else would."

"Don't call the nice lady silly, Rothy, she's a customer," Mitch said distractedly, his attention focused on his patient more than what his daughter was rambling about. "These wounds are already starting to heal, almost as if... sir, can you hear me? Do you have your aura unlocked?" The man on the bed mumbled something in response, though Cammy didn't hear what he said. She assumed he had confirmed the medic's suspicion, since he then said, "that'll make this all a tad easier."

Cammy heard Sage talking to someone outside; apparently the man who had purchased this room had returned and was wondering if everything was alright. Sage was explaining the general situation, "they're giving that fellow some medical attention." That seemed to be explanation enough, since Cammy heard footsteps moving away from the room outside, leaving Sage alone in the doorway, his attention divided between keeping an eye out and watching the bustle occurring around the wounded man. Scarlet was closer to Cammy, leaning against the clothes drawer as he tried to keep out of anybody's way.

Bole slowly lowered the camera, "they let a male faunus on a train of refugees?" He sounded incredulous, which bothered Cammy for some reason. Maybe it was his tone: she hadn't taken her cameraman to be anti-faunus. _I guess I did just meet him, and it is not like it is an uncommon or unpopular opinion in Mistral_.

"They couldn't get him off. He was already on and didn't want to give up his seat; nobody challenged it but a lot of the ladies complained. He smelled sort of bad so sitting next to him was the only space left when the let me on." Rothy smiled, "I knew he was a faunus but I thought his trait was a tail at first; he doesn't have a tail, though -

"Not to interrupt boss, but is this part of the report's parameters? I think we've already got what your editors wanted from this trip, and I only have so much memory in this thing," Bole whined, probably tired from lugging the camera around all day. He lowered the camera so that it was hanging at his side, though the green lights indicated that it was still running. "This guy looks like he just got in a car crash, that's not really news-worthy..."

"-it turns out that he has neat black horns, instead." Rothy finished, peeking over her father's shoulder to watch what he was doing while she spoke. "I wish I had horns instead of these clunky feet."

"Give him some air, Rothy," Mitch requested, patting his daughter on the head, then gently shoving her back a step away from the bed where he worked. "I need the stretcher from the ambulance," he said, and looked at Scarlet. Scarlet moved past Sage, back out into the parking lot. "Back the ambulance's rear up to the door of this room; key's in the ignition," he added.

"Keep the camera running on this, Bole!" Cammy hissed under her breath, then turned back to Rothy and asked in as gentle a tone as she could muster, "did you see the person who fought the grimm on the train?"

The man on the bed howled in pain as Mitch poured antiseptic onto a large gash across his shoulder, distracting Rothy from the question.

"Rothy?" Cammy asked again.

"Yes?"

"Did you see the person who fought the grimm on the train?" Cammy repeated. _They could fix that in editing later so that it played better, right?_ A man screaming in the background of this wasn't really news-appropriate. Not that this was really even for her job: Cammy was just curious for herself. None of this would probably make it to air, Bole was probably right to want to cut the tape for the day.

"Of course I did," Rothy preened in the proud voice that only a prepubescent girl - who realizes that she knows more than an adult - can have, reveling in the attention she was being suddenly afforded, "he had to get over me to get out onto the train. He punched the train steward when he got up, which I didn't like at the time but when the steward kicked me out onto the streets it made me smile to remember even when it was cold and raining and I got wet in the alley puddles..."

"You slept in an alley?" Mitch's attention suddenly wavered from preparing a needle to stitch a gash in the man's forearm, he spared a couple seconds to take a glance at his daughter before turning back to his work.

"She slept in a what?" a shrill voice came from the bathroom. "The military convoy people told me she'd been staying at a faunus halfway house with some nice fox lady!"

"Only for a bit, momma." Rothy called out reassuringly, though Cammy doubted it reassured either of her parents to know. "I didn't get there until he found me again in the city and took me to the safe place where Miss Lichen lived. She has a big bathtub with warm water right from the tap, just like Maureen's house!"

"It doesn't matter, babe, all that matters is that she's back safe with us now," Mitch said towards the bathroom.

Scarlet came back with the stretcher, which he helped Mitch unfold before the medic began preparing the patient to be transferred onto it.

The man on the bed coughed, a wet rasping sound matched by his voice. "Your friend-" another fit of hacking coughs "girl, what was your friend's _name_?"

"He's my _best_ friend! Forever!" Rothy corrected, since little girls of her age felt that distinction was relevant somehow, then continued, "because he protected me from the mean monsters with his big gun-sword and made sure I was fed and warm in a house!" She stuck her nose up in the air, "not like Maureen, who is a _liar_ and a _cheater_! I don't want to go over to her house tomorrow for a playtime! She'll threaten to sell my feet to a glue factory and treat me bad, not like a real friend would. A real friend who tells me that being a faunus is nothing to be ashamed of, just like my Mommy and Daddy do. I love my mommy and daddy lots and lots, but I think-"

Time suddenly seemed to slow down.

"Adam Taurus is my hero!"

Cammy's mind raced in circles, reeling. The man on the train. The sword that destroyed the nevermore. The gunshots along the train before he had entered. Adam Taurus had been the one to save her, to save all of their lives. Why? Why would he have done it? What did he have to gain? Why was he on the train? The answer to the question she had desperately sought had just spawned dozens more, like some incredible riddle-hydra. She had thought knowing the identity of her savior would bring her peace, comfort. It didn't.

Time started up again, now whizzing along as if to make up for the brief pause.

"He's so cool and strong and brave and nice and tall and..." the girl continued to gush, though the words began to distort into a buzzing background noise that Cammy couldn't concentrate on.

Mitch dropped the needle he had been using to suture the bedridden man's arm with. It tinkled against the wood floor. Bole gasped. Nobody moved.

"Did that child just say what I think heard her say?" Sage asked, turning his attention from outside to fully attend to the situation unfolding inside the motel room.

"Yeah." Scarlet answered, "she totally did."

"He's..." the man on the bed groaned, apparently not concerned that Mitch, in his state of shock at his daughter's revelation, had stopped sewing up one of his lacerations mid-stitch,"...alive..."

Save for Rothy noisily picking up her father's dropped sewing needle and dutifully placing it in a cup of sanitizer, and the echoing sound of someone's heavy footsteps moving swiftly away outside - the keyholder of the room who had been inquiring to Sage about the flurry of events within, Cammy assumed - the motel room was utterly quiet.

"Adam Taurus is in the city and she knows where he is." Bole said, breaking the silence. "Miss," he called toward the bathroom, "where did you say your daughter stayed in the city before the authorities brought her back here?"

Rothy's mother didn't answer, but Rothy did after sighing with disdain. "I told you, with Miss Lichen! She had a warm bathtub! She was so nice!"

"Tell me more about Lichen," Bole asked. Cammy felt usurped, as if her role as reporter had been suddenly taken by the cameraman.

"She has a nice house at the bottom of the city," she started.

"In the faunus district?" Bole asked.

"I wish we had so many faunus here in Kuchinashi, then I'd probably have more people to play with that didn't laugh at my feet!"

Bole began backing away towards the door. "We need to get this to the city right now."

Cammy snapped back to her senses. "No."

"Ma'am? This is important. We'll get promotions for this. Bonuses. Accolades. I could afford to get my brother his own place..."

"I said no."

"She's right," Sage said. "If you take that recording to the authorities, they'll storm the faunus district. They'll tear it apart to find him with proof he's there like this."

"Wouldn't Belladonna and the militia have something to say about that?" Asked Scarlet.

"No, he wouldn't. They wouldn't." Sage stated, "because they won't be there."

"So they won't be around to stop us from catching Taurus!" Bole crowed, "the only reason our police haven't caught that monster yet is because Belladonna interfered with his uninvited Menagerie invasion force."

"That's not true," Scarlet said, though he sounded uncertain. "They weren't an invasion force, anyways."

Cammy was uncertain, herself, about the government's actions. If the government had known Adam had been in the city, wouldn't they have pulled out all the stops to catch him? Unless they didn't know he was in town, but she'd given them a photo of the faunus on the train back into town. What reason did they have to want to keep the situation distorted? Why would they lie?

"It is! I worked the faunus district with Josh Carpet, it's a powderkeg. Josh couldn't get any of them to be cooperative, and he's a great reporter! They hate humans down there, they'd hide Adam! If Adam's down there, the military will have to clean house." He seemed to view the prospect with glee. _He really is racist against faunus_, Cammy realized. "Belladonna wouldn't let that happen, but if he's gone this video is all the justification the soldiers would need!"

"When did Belladonna leave?" Scarlet asked Sage.

"He was only staying in the city because of his daughter. She left on the train, so he planned to leave shortly thereafter. Neptune told me, he found out from someone he knows." Sage explained.

"Man, do you ever get the sense that we're terrible gossips?" Scarlet complained.

"I need to get this man to the nearest clinic..." Mitch said, remembering himself and his present task. "Help me get him on the stretcher." Scarlet moved over to help Mitch, and the two of them were able to gently lift and roll the mass of bandages and stitched flesh onto the wheeled stretcher. Mitch began rolling it out of the room towards his ambulance.

"You can't take that recording back to the city," Cammy repeated. "Not until we get all the facts." Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to her anymore.

"Agree... with her..." the immobile man on the stretcher managed to say as he wheeled by her, gurgling fluids in his throat as he struggled to produce the statement in his condition. He sagged into the mobile bed, his energy expended. _Well, at least someone is paying attention to me._ As far as supporters go, the semi-unconscious man left a lot to be desired.

"I don't think Taurus is worth tearing up a whole neighborhood," Scarlet said, following Mitch out into the parking lot. Bole went out the door, too. "Surely the government wouldn't do anything rash just because of one lone faunus renegade in their midst."

"I don't think I'm a gossip," Sage retorted, following his partner.

"Oh yeah? What about that time you told Sun that I was going on a date instead of studying for that midterm?" Scarlet replied, "or that time you told Neptune that Sun was ditching class to go to the carnival early and didn't have 'faunus flu'?"

Sage's eyes flashed with anger, "like you're one to talk! What about that time _you_ went and told the carnival staff who puked in the bathroom after _you_ convinced me to go on the rollercoaster?" He helped Mitch load the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. The medic went in and began buckling in the stretcher so that it wouldn't roll around during the drive. His voice became a parody of Scarlet's, though a bit higher pitched, _"don't worry, Sage, if the rollercoaster flies off the rails I can just glide us to safety with my semblance!"_

"Well, someone had to tell them!"

Cammy crossed her arms and shook her head, "guys, can you focus just for a little bit?"

"Or that time that you tattled to Sun about that rash I told you about, _in strictest confidence_? Or the fact that most of our conversations are about people we know?"

The two continued to bicker betwixt themselves, while Cammy tried to get their attention back onto the present and Mitch finished strapping in his patient.

"I think this fellow might be a huntsman: these wounds are clearing up supernaturally fast." Mitch said loudly to nobody in particular.

Cammy tried to arrange her thoughts into some sort of order. Everything had suddenly started happening, and she'd already had a long day. It had been a long day for her entire team, they need to take a break and sleep... she counted the nearby bodies. Mitch. Injured guy. Sage. Scarlet. Little girl faunus.

"Hey!" Cammy shouted suddenly, "where'd Bole go?"

The huntsmen paid neither her nor the cameraman's disappearance any heed, choosing instead to start tearing into each other for past slights. Rothy's mother had come out of the bathroom, clutching a bloody bedsheet dripping crimson water and several red-splattered wet towels in one hand, and gripped Rothy's shoulder tightly with the other to keep the girl beside her.

"Sweetie," Rothy's mother said, "I need you to make mommy a promise..."

"Bole?" She shouted again, with the same result. _I guess it's up to me?_ Cammy realized glumly. She grabbed her shoes and began putting them on, but in her state of half-shock and haste, she kept fumbling with the laces. She abandoned the attempt and just strode out the door with the shoes not laced up, which she instantly regretted as she tripped in the parking lot, scraping her knees and elbows as she fell onto the asphalt. "Dammit!" She swore, tears beginning in her eyes from the pain, but then looked up as everything dimmed: she found herself suddenly in the looming shadow of a giant man.

"That fellow with the camera told me he is a friend of the injured man I found," the gigantic man said in a low, even tone. If it wasn't for the comically thick sunglasses, pronounced nose and large moustache, she would have thought he looked a lot like Hazel Rainart from the city's many wanted posters. He held a cup of coffee from the motel office's dispenser, steaming hot. "He said he would take the car back to the man's house and contact a garage to fix it."

Cammy looked across the parking lot at the damaged car just as it stuttered to life and jutted forward, Rothy's broom falling underneath its rear tire and splitting in half. Bole clearly wasn't the best driver, but he had enough skill to squeal out of the parking lot in a hurry, black rubber marks now marring the pavement where he had floored the accelerator pedal.

"I'm starting to think that wasn't true." The giant said, his tone lacking any real concern. He took a sip from his coffee.

Cammy watched the somehow-functional vehicle turn the corner and zoom out of view towards the gate towards the big city.

"No, no no!" Cammy cried, beating her fist into the ground, "he has the camera, he has the camera!"

The man looked at her for a moment, then lifted her up with his free hand and set her back down on her feet, demonstrating his strength and size. He smelled like the woods, like he hadn't showered for a while, but that was not uncommon out this far from the city.

"If Rover lives, tell him he should drive with more care in the future. He must treat the gift of his life with more reverence. I have to get back to the city, so I will not be around to say it myself." He tipped his hat towards her, then walked out of the parking lot, down the road and towards the gate.

Scarlet and Sage came over to her. "Hey, where'd Bole go?"

"Are you alright?" Sage added with a note of concern as he saw her scraped shins and elbows.

"He got away. He drove away!" She screamed as loudly and angrily as she could manage, "he took my story and he took the camera and he got away!"

"Oh." They said, backing away from her a step each.

_Oh no, I'm not letting them off the hook for this._ "You were supposed to be my bodyguards! But you were too busy acting like children!"

"Technically, we were as much responsible for protecting Bole as we were you..." Sage started.

She punched him in his exposed abs, which hurt as much as her fall to the ground had. His aura flared, and her knuckles would soon bruise. "Argh!"

"Hey, careful!" Scarlet warned, moving back in to latch onto her arm, restraining her.

"Let me go!" She screamed, kicking out at him. He didn't bring up his aura, thankfully, but he was still combat-trained enough to ignore the attack. "Let me go! We have to chase Bole!"

"In what?" Sage asked, "he took the car. We can't keep up to him on foot. Especially you."

Cammy's eye moved to the ambulance.

"Doesn't he need that to get the guy in there to the clinic?"

Cammy didn't bother responding; she walked towards the ambulance.

"That's not our ambulance, isn't that stealing or something?"

_Borrowing_, Cammy thought. She opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. "Mitch, the guy has aura, right?"

"Yes," the medic responded, "what's going on out there?"

"If he has aura, does he even need to go to the clinic?"

"Well, it would probably be best and we would find out what happened to him..."

_But he'd survive a chase scene, is what you're saying_, Cammy thought. "Your wife wanted to talk to you." _He married a faunus, so he'll probably forgive me for trying to stymie this story from getting out_...

Mitch nodded, his face revealing that he was struggling to make sense of everything going on while also performing his job, and he slid out the back door. Cammy closed the driver-side door.

"Scarlet, she's doing it. Get in with her!" The boys leapt onto the vehicle as she began driving it out of the lot, Sage managing to leap on the hood early enough to crawl around to get into the passenger-side door while Scarlet clung to the siren on the top.

"Tell her not to turn on these sirens!" She heard him yell through the roof.

A big button on the dashboard indicated that it could be used to turn the sirens on or off. _But I'm in a hurry!_ The pervert deserved to get his eardrums blown out, anyways.

Hazel watched impassively as the ambulance blurred by him through the town gates chasing after the car he had found Rover in on his way back from visiting the White Fang headquarters. The redheaded man clinging to the top of the ambulance, his legs flailing behind him and his hands gripping the lights as if he was flying like some comic-book superhero, whatever protests he made drowned out by the blare of the sirens.

A man in local militia uniform ran by on foot, shouting and waving pathetically at the ambulance, before giving up and walking back to the motel dejectedly. Hazel had not been aware Kuchinashi had such a problem with vehicular theft.

Hazel took another sip of the coffee. He had a long walk back to the city, but that was fine. He had a lot to think about, concerning everything he'd seen out past Ilhari at the White Fang base Adam had invited him to long ago. People said Adam was dead. People said Adam was alive. Something was wrong with the faunus' aura.

It helped give him something to think about other than the fact he had let Ozpin get away.

_Ozpin_.

Coffee gushed out of his fist and he regarded it with annoyance. He had crushed the cup by accident.

He had a long, thirsty walk back to the city.

* * *

Author Ramblings: Canon divergence notice regarding Vasilias family. I guess I'm officially writing AU now, unless we make the strange leap that Nep's mom and Jup's mom both have a kid named Jupiter or that the story lied about Neptune's family to keep his lineage on the down-low. I haven't read the release; all I know is that his family is all water-based. I do try to avoid these divergences, but I'd already written the chapter when all that came out and I'm not rewriting four chapters to hash it in.

Strange to have an entire chapter without any Adam perspective. I guess it was a little experiment in world-building. Can't say I enjoyed it, but hopefully it will pay off later. Thanks for reviews on last chapter; next chapter is either going to be 'Mute-Adore' or 'Bad Track Record'. This chapter was too E-rated for my liking. Let's see if I can make up for that in subsequent scribbling.


	18. Mute-Adore

**Brazen**

"She sure is eating a lot for someone who doesn't move," Dom called from where he sat at the desk, idly playing with his scroll, towards where Brazen occupied his time with push-ups in the middle of the warehouse. Keeping in perfect shape demanded a lot of attention, and both clones enjoyed the exercise while bereft of better uses of their time.

_Bedlam seemed to have a bit of an edge on Dominic when they spared against one another, I don't want that to happen to me. I can't lose real fights.  
_

"Or talk," Brazen added. "I can get dressed, run out for a grocery shopping trip."

"No!" exclaimed Dominic, suddenly bolting up out of his chair. Brazen was alarmed at the sudden motion and, instinctively, rolled to the side towards where his weapon lay on the floor - because doing pushups with a metal sheath on the back got irritating quick. "No need for you to trouble yourself like that," continued Dominic, "I can do it."

"I haven't been out in a while, I may as well..." _Now that I think of it, I haven't left the warehouse since I saw Cinder. Hazel's lead on the information broker made me focus more on Neo than my real task._ Brazen spared a moment to think about his burly associate: Hazel had been out of contact since then. _Maybe he's still out of the city's network range; he still has information to collect about the wizard from the broker._ Brazen felt a bit guilty about that last part: he could easily inform Hazel about his quarry's route. _Well, I can tell him that next time he makes himself available to me_, he reasoned.

"There's nothing interesting out there for us right now, anyways." Dom persuaded hastily, "you may as well just focus all of your attention on your little 'pet project'."

It was one way to refer to Neo. "Whatever."

"Although there might be something interesting out there for me," Dom said, now walking over towards where Brazen lay coiled on the floor like a deadly, muscled spring. "Sort of was putting it off, figured I would be out of the city by now-"

"Bah, nonsense, you've enjoyed your own company," Brazen interjected as he let his body relax from its ready stance.

"-and we spent a lot of time dealing with finding this place." Dominic waved his hand around the warehouse, dismal as it was. "I feel like I might get somewhere if I head back to the faunus district, scour the ground. There are a lot of our people there who might still side with me. Possibly willing to share information, resources, with their saviour."

Brazen cocked his eyebrow at his clone.

Dominic deflated a little. "I know, I know, I've not had great luck with my supporters in Mistral and the media has been running a... strong... campaign against me."

"There are several channels dedicated to running looped clips of me getting knocked to the ground by Blake, interspersed with our attempt to detonate the bombs, followed by the scene of us withdrawing into the woods." Brazen reminded, rolling over onto his back and sitting up. "After that fight in the throne room..."

"The throne room might have been a fluke. Maybe now that the dust has settled, my supporters-"

"The ones who weren't taken into police custody or slaughtered by grimm that the..." Brazen said, concluding by raising his middle finger to indicate the grimm-luring magnet he had attached to their selves.

Dominic halted, as both their shared mind returned to the night of their separation. The night of their latest in a number of recent betrayals by those they had thought they could depend on. "My supporters who remain in Mistral, they may have now realized that I am still their best option for power over the humans."

"Do you have anything to offer them?" Brazen asked, skeptical, as he rose to his feet, strapped his weapon onto his back and began walking over to the desk. "They don't support you, they support what the Fang offered them without anything required of them."

"Nothing other than being willing to stand aside and tacitly condone the justice I dispense upon humanity in their name!" Dominic began, following him over towards the desk. "I'm the one fighting for them! I just need to know where the faunus here stand on that. I can't afford another blunder like Menagerie's betrayal. If it's true that I've lost everything here in Mistral - of which I'm not entirely convinced, but I'm still willing to write this racist excuse of a Kingdom off anyways for the time being - then I need to figure out exactly what went wrong so that I can prepare for the repercussions to my reputation in Vale. I need to be ready to walk back into Vale with them knowing everything that happened here. I need to be ready to retain their loyalty regardless of what they've heard about Haven."

"You can't afford Ghira rallying the locals to fight alongside humanity, you mean. His new movement is a threat to your support base, and it seems he is already making some headway against the local racist institutions." Brazen said, voicing the obvious truth that the schism in the White Fang was greedily leeching the momentum Adam had worked towards for years, "Vale is the best option for us, since the humans there will be naturally inclined to give the faunus in their midst a greater amount of suspicion, creating a larger divide between them-"

"Which I will use to unite our people against the humans." Dominic finished the thought. "I bet your friend Salem will want to know that, too. She needs to know if the faunus are going to be an asset, a liability, or a non-factor in her war against the humans. I think the best we can hope for right now is the last option..."

"If the faunus are a liability, if they follow Ghira and Blake against her forces, our people will share the fate of humanity." Brazen stated darkly. _Even combined, humanity and faunus can't win against the collective mass of grimm that Salem had at her apparent beck and call. Even the Seer posed a significant tactical boon to Salem in a world without the CCT. Humanity had no means of communication. They had no means of safely transporting their troops to where they were needed. Dust had always been what kept humanity's pulse beating, but even that was a finite resource demanding they dig deeper and further for more. Better to be on the sidelines and deal with the victor._ "Alright, go on, do your thing out there."

"Not like you can stop me from going, anyway." Dominic smiled jovially, "we're far too evenly matched."

Another shrug from Brazen. "Don't get caught, and bring back more food on the way back I guess," he poked at Dom's scroll, "and keep in touch?"

The pair of them had, albeit briefly, spoken about the oddity that was their scroll background image. It's present image, taken by Bedlam and depicting his target planting a kiss on the blonde-haired Sun Wukong, had done little to stir their emotions but had succeeded in reminding them of the anomaly which they had taken advantage of once prior: when trying to determine the cause of their aura collapse during Bedlam's capture by Neopolitan.

"You want me to test it out some more while I'm canvassing the faunus district?" Dom questioned, regarding his scroll with renewed interest.

"There are a lot of things we need to figure out about it..." Brazen began, holding up his hand and counting down with his fingers: "We can't call our own scroll and chat-" (They'd tried that, it just resulted in a 'the device you are attempting to reach is currently busy, please try your call again later' mechanical tone) "-but we can add or change the background picture."

"He did that while in the city's network range, at the train station. I did it in Lichen's bathroom and you did it in the forest. Do you know if you were in the city's network range when you were in the forest?"

Brazen shook his head. _No, I do not know how far out I was when I sent that or how far out the city's network range extends to. __I don't even know if the change happened immediately, or only took effect on Dom's scroll when I made it close enough back to be within range._ In Brazen's defence, he had had more pressing concerns and a burly giant human companion too close by to spend valuable time experimenting with his scroll settings. Brazen lowered a finger on his raised hand. "Secondly, we haven't tried to do much of anything but change the background picture yet. So we know we can add photos, but what else?"

"Can we add voice recordings? Text entries? Do our contacts get shared?" Dom listed.

Brazen continued, his fingers dropping down into his fist as he rattled off each additional query, "if someone sends me a message via scroll, will Bedlam be able to read it if he is on a different network? Would you be able to see my chats with Neopolitan if you are in Vacuo's network range or out of range entirely? I wish we had asked about this when we were getting split."

Dominic shrugged. "She's pretty old and had been locked up for a while, maybe she hasn't encountered scroll technology before." He grabbed Neo's scroll from the desk drawer and began typing on it. He sent the message and both of their scrolls hummed as they received the message simultaneously. Then he typed into his own scroll and, as he sent the message, Brazen watched the text appear on his screen as if it had been sent by him. _Which makes sense, I guess. Our scroll identity doesn't realize it is spread across separate devices now._ Dom placed Neo's scroll back on the desk; since RWBY had left their safehouse, the camera feed had been pretty useless. They had seen a couple humans poking around in it - probably government agents re-bugging the place in case the team came back and required further covert surveillance - but nothing of any real interest. The humans had never even found their own spy camera. _I wonder if they can trace the signal if they stumble upon it?_ Brazen thought. _I should recover that camera at some point._

He looked at Dom, and his clone nodded. _I think he's on the same page with that issue._

"All this magic stuff, it's all new to me. I wish we could get some clarification on the matter..." Brazen complained, then lowered his last finger: "assuming that this is part of the magic relic-y stuff."

"Well, we know of four beings who have some expertise in such matters. Lionheart was the best option," Dom started.

"Alas, he got himself killed 'somehow' during the fight at Haven." Brazen shook his head ruefully; Lionheart would have been a valuable and, most importantly, trustworthy ally. A faunus who had managed to deceive the highest echelons of humans for so long... truly a heroic figure in Adam Taurus' minds. "Then we have the wizard-thing of Beacon, now residing in the body of that human boy-child travelling with Blake."

"Maybe Bedlam can get some answers out of him?" Dominic looked at the background photo on the scroll again, and reconsidered. "Though I think he has more intimate concerns pressing upon his mind at present..."

"Salem, of course, could probably tell us everything pertinent to the issue. She must have some inkling of these things, or could at least greatly assist our research."

"Sadly, she'd probably kill us for withholding such a prize from her." _I do suspect she was directly involved in the death of Lionheart. _"Or somehow try to control us, subjugate us, to ensure that the relic's power was used for her own designs."

Neither one of them were keen on that option.

"Which just leaves one option, which is also now out-of-reach because we would need Bedlam here in order to summon her. Plus, if we do that, I guess we'd have to create a fourth."

"A waste of the power, really," Dominic agreed. "Sort of a shame that the other relic is already used up. I wonder how long we'd have to wait before it recharges? Maybe Bedlam can deal with Blake and bring us the soul-parasite and the relic they're fleeing with before reaching Solitas?"

Brazen put his face into his hands and exhaled forcefully. "Maybe if we are able to communicate with him to do so? It's a longshot."

"Ah, cheer up. We might not have anyone around willing to safely dispense the answers, but you can still test out some of the ideas with me." He typed into his scroll for a couple seconds while saying, "here, I'll put in a text document. Saving it as 'scrolltest'", Dominic muttered. "Oh, there's already..."

A buzzing alerted Brazen to the other scroll sitting in a partly-open desk drawer, so he went and grabbed the scroll identical to Dom's. _Odd, I thought I'd left that in my pants. Maybe Dom and Bedlam were testing out the anomaly with all three scrolls while I was asleep? _"What is 'journal'?" Brazen asked, opening the file.

~Train ride is smooth, gravity buffer instead of wheels. Safely stowed away in a cabin, elderly human occupant agreeable, easily bribed into complacency with presence. Several days until Argus.~

"I guess he took my advice," Dominic said softly, "I asked Bedlam to keep a journal. Looks like he did."

"Is he in range of Mistral's tower?" Brazen asked excitedly, "when did he make this? Where was he?"

"Hard to say... the file says it was last updated several seconds ago, since we opened it up."

"Dammit," the pair of them exclaimed in unison, which drew a wry chuckle.

"Well, at least he's submitting the entries. If he does another one at the end of today, he'd certainly be outside of Haven's scroll network..."

"Unless he is already on his way back," Brazen suggested, "maybe getting to Blake on the train happened to be easier than anticipated?"

"I guess we'll see next time he logs an entry..." Dominic admitted. "Alright, next plan: test, test, test, test." He said the final bit into his scroll's receiver, then pressed a few more touchscreen buttons.

Brazen waited a few seconds, then saw the audio file appear on his own scroll.

The mechanical tone of the scroll cried out from his speakers, "-test, test, test, test."

"Well I guess we can send audio, text, and images to one another so long as we're on the same network, at any rate." Brazen said, "and you can always just call me on this," he added, taking the scroll they had captured from Neopolitan up from the desk.

"Excellent," agreed Dominic, "yet another advantage to all this magic stuff." He moved over to his heap of clothes and disguise and quickly began donning them while Brazen continued searching through his scroll settings.

"I shouldn't be gone too long," Dominic said, sheathing his sword along his spine, concealed from damning casual view.

"Alright. I guess I'll just stay here, tending to my human pet project..." Brazen slipped his scroll into the side of his shoe and stood up, using his now-empty hand to reach out to snag the last pudding from the desk. He wiggled it, "don't forget to pick up food..."

"Yeah, yeah..." Dominic sighed, "I'll grab the camera from the huntresses' empty house, too, since it isn't doing anything for us there anymore."

_Having the same brain sure saves time!_ He took Neo's scroll and shoved it into the opposite shoe to have it close by, since watching Dominic sneak into the empty house could be fun to do later on. Besides that, it was sometimes fun to try to bribe Neo to speak by offering her the sight of her scroll. _'Come on, human! Say "please" and maybe I can let you have it!' _Sadly, while fun to see her scowl at his offer, it had borne no more fruit than any other attempt to get the human to utter anything beyond grunts and wheezing.

"Hey," Brazen said suddenly, staring down at his own near-nudity, "should I get more dressed for these interrogation/recuperation sessions with Neo?"

Dominic paled, the reaction mostly hidden by his hat shadowing his features, before stammering out his response; "n-no, you're fine like that. In fact, it is probably beneficial to wear as little as possible. She has a thing for our smokin' hot bod, right? Use that to our advantage. If she can be convinced to work with us in return for... visual gratification, then why not?"

Brazen nodded.

"As long as you're okay with it, too, I mean," Dominic added on quickly.

"I guess I am?" He paused to consider the question. "I'm not saying I'm into humans like _that _or anything, but there isn't anything unattractive about her, right?" Brazen wasn't sure why he was even bothering to ask. _If I find her attractive, so would Dominic. We're the same person, and we're not constantly thinking about Blake like a certain Adam I could name..._ "I also do need her semblance in order to get in contact with that information broker. Maybe I should just ignore that for the time being and do more legwork on my own, keep hitting the streets myself and hope to chance upon Cinder again like before? Maybe if I do a stake-out at the school-"

"No!" Yelled Dominic, "no, no, no," he said, his volume slightly lowered after the initial outburst, "it's dangerous out there and there is no need for the risk...your plan to use Neo is the soundest strategy. Focus on that for now."

"Is that supposed to make me feel more confident in your plan to traipse about through the place where our enemies would most likely expect to find me hiding in the city?" Brazen asked.

"Yes, looking for you," Dominic nodded, his shadowed countenance exuding wisdom. "Don't forget: my disguise is much better than yours. I'll be hiding in plain sight."

"Right." Brazen remembered something else they needed to discuss: how they were going to deal with the eventual necessity of releasing the human into their midst.

Dominic said it first, though. "On that note, since you've taken to playing the part of the real Adam Taurus, and since Neo should eventually get better, we will eventually have to either introduce me to her or keep separated. If we do the former, we can do the same ruse we pulled at Lichen's, now that Bedlam isn't running the risk of showing up and begging the question 'how many long-lost brothers can one world-infamous faunus have'. If the latter, we can always keep in touch with this scroll weirdness."

"But if we choose the former, we could test out how our semblance works when two of us use it _simultaneously_," Brazen said, not needing to explicitly mention the manner by which they might go about charging their semblance for such a trial. Neither did he need mention what sort of position they would have to find themselves in to use their semblance in sync with one another. _We're both thinking it anyways._ "We know we can charge it up at a distance, we know we can charge it up by sparring, and we've unlocked a new mode of it, but we've never charged it up and tried using it in tandem."

Dominic's eye widened, then he tried (unsuccessfully) to hide a rakish grin as he almost-calmly replied, "I think it would be best for Neo to not emerge from her entrapment to find Adam Taurus completely devoid of allies other than herself."

Brazen couldn't help but smile, knowing that there was no way that he would have refused that surprising but enticing offer. "Glad to have you onboard with my plan, brother." Brazen watched Dominic flash him the single-fingered salute with his left hand, then disappear through the door.

~J~

"Well," Brazen sighed to nobody, literally talking to himself like a mundane, non-cloned person would, "time to go check in with her I guess." He opened the door and began to step into the room, but years of combat instincts quickly asserted themselves over his cheerful disposition and somersaulted his body forward in a smooth roll, landing on his side. In so doing, he evaded the silenced thrust of the girl's sword - entirely removed from its noisy umbrella sheath - as it lunged at the door frame. The empty restraining table gave him some idea of who had tried to impale him so suddenly, though other questions remained.

"How did you get free?" he hissed, pulling his sword from its sheath along his spine as he rose back to his feet and spun about to regard his decidedly frazzled-looking opponent. Her hair was askew and she had light bruises on her wrists; she'd had time to put on her socks, pants, and her bra. "Why did it take you this long? What do you think to accomplish with attacking me?"

Neo made a wicked grin, and said nothing.

"So what now?" He asked, holding his sword up defensively. "Going to run for it? You'd probably be able to make it to the street..."

The girl shook her head, raising her blade and pointing it at him.

"Maybe you'd feel calmer after having something to eat?" He lobbed the pudding cup at her, which she sidestepped. The pudding smacked into the padded wall and bounced back, splattering on the tile between them. "What, suddenly you're against pudding?"

Neo continued her sidestep, turning it into a pace along the wall of the room, circling him and the table.

"You think you can win a straight fight? Against _me_?" he chuckled at the absurdity of it; "you're barely recovered from being sick for days."

She continued pacing around the room. The padded walls, combined with her natural grace and socked feet made her footfalls unnaturally silent on the tile. Brazen took in a deep breath of the room, but her long internment had left it entirely infused with her scent. As far as his nose was concerned, she was all over him. _A mental picture that wants more focus than the current threat allows me._ The entire room seemed design to stifle his natural faunus sensory superiority over humanity, which would make sense given what it had been used by the callous corporation to do to his people for the sake of profits.

"We're on the same side. If you want to spar, that's fine, but before we do that there's work we have to get progressing on. You know: _finding Cinder_? That thing we both want to do?"

He craned his neck as she got to the corner behind him. He turned around placidly, the empty table between them.

"So? What do you want?"

Neo stopped, and then mimed the act of opening and typing on a scroll, then gestured at the empty table that divided them. She wanted him to put her scroll on the table?

"I'm afraid I'll have to keep your scroll for the time being," Brazen said, sticking out his foot and tapping the slight protrusion of her scroll with the tip of Wilt before quickly resuming his defensive stance. "There's still only a thin sheet of trust between us: you haven't even told me how you got to Mistral from Vale. I know you weren't part of Cinder's plans to attack Haven, since (for whatever it was worth) I _was_. If I give you the scroll it'd be as good as letting you out of sight. I wouldn't be able to feel secure, on the off chance that you went and called in support. After what Cinder cost me, I can't really afford undue attention cast upon me in the city. Can't say I'm predisposed to trust human, either." _Not to mention I need the scroll in case Dom calls me, or vice versa._ Beyond that, he wasn't tech-savvy enough to know whether or not there had been some hidden recording function on the scroll. He'd hate for her to learn all that he'd gleaned from spying on team RWBY and friends - those secrets were much too juicy to give away to an uncertain ally like Neo.

"If you're intent on this, if you're having problems understanding how your new purpose is to serve me, then I guess I'll just have to reinforce that lesson."

She didn't like that at all, of course. Neo darted forward and jabbed at him with her sword. He stepped back to evade it, then swung at her with the flat of his blade with enough force to knock her over. It was a telegraphed attack, though, leaving her plenty of time to acrobatically duck underneath the red metal. He swung again, with similar results.

"You'll notice-"

He swung at her wrist, trying to hit her hard enough to get her to at least drop her weapon. She twirled away, smiling cheekily.

"-that I'm-"

An overhead bash, one-handed, while his free hand tried to take advantage of the blade's more imminent threat to grab onto her hair. It slipped through his gloved fingers as she performed another neat spin to avoid Wilt. _Her hair must be greasy since I only washed it with water, otherwise I'd have had her.  
_

"-still playing _nice_!"

Gripping Wilt with both hands he heaved it around in a wide arc, going more for a quick area swoop rather than a precise strike. Not his usual style, but her agility was letting her toy with his prior attempts to land his nonlethal strikes. He found himself impressed as she doubled over backwards, letting Wilt pass by her face no more than a finger's width away. _Having a scroll in each shoe is impeding my footwork; while not particularly delicate I'd hate to accidentally snap either device._

"Don't make me-"

He pulled Blush off his back with his off-hand, snapping the leather belt that had kept it there, and held the two weapons in front of himself.

"- wonder how much you really need your arms."

Neo stuck her tongue out at him and wiggled her shoulders, as if to say _'come and get them, if you can!_' She moved to the other side of the table, keeping it between them.

"The fire dust in Wilt would certainly cauterize the wounds easily enough," Brazen warned. "It wouldn't be that hard to make sure it healed, and I definitely have some experience in taking care of you."

A quick swipe over the table, falling far short of her.

"Even!"

Swipe again, just as useless.

"If you-"

He aimed Blush at her, but she took cover under the table.

"Didn't deserve such _kindness_!"

She popped back up from the table and resumed circling the table opposite of him, their eyes locked in a contest of concentration.

"Trust me, I've done it to people before." He remembered Blake's partner, at Beacon. "I hear they get used to it... eventually. I think they even have a charity fund in Atlas to provide my dismembered victims with shiny metal replacement limbs. Go ahead, ask Yang about it. I saw her sporting a cybernetic arm, and I don't think she got that from what's left of Vale's industrial district." Really that just went to go and show how much Atlas was willing to pay out to anyone who went up against their cruelly castigated child-chattel.

She continued to mirror his stride, nimbly keeping out of his grasp as he made several half-hearted swipes at her head with the flat of Wilt.

"What are your plan, Neo? Wearing me out? You've been sick for days. I'm at my prime. I can keep making attacks like this all day." As he spoke, he suddenly spun around and caught her by surprise, getting a clear shot at her. Seizing the opportunity, Brazen unleashed a flurry of swift strikes at her which she somehow managed to nimbly dodge, ducking and diving under the efforts of Wilt and Blush to knock her out, her body contorting at strange angles. _She must be double-jointed... certainly flexible._ Maybe she had used that flexibility to get off the table? While he had nothing but thanks to Bedlam for having the brilliant insight of putting her camera in Blake's presence, he sort of wished he had some way of seeing how his prisoner had gotten out of her restraints for future reference.

"You can't outlast me, _pet_." He sneered, "so just put down your little pin of a weapon and give this up."

Slowly, Neo shook her head. It irked Adam that she didn't even seem out of breath, despite the fact that she'd been dancing around his attempts to subdue her for a full minute now. He felt his own breathing getting faster from chasing her around in circles. He wasn't winded yet - far from it - but he wanted this to end. Now. The longer this spectacle persisted, the higher the odds of Dom coming back and having mockery material on him for the rest of his independent existence._  
_

"If you have demands, I'm always willing to _listen_ to them."

Neo's face dropped into a scowl.

"All this time and not a peep from you. How am I supposed to know how you feel about my offer, what you want from serving me, if you won't _tell_ me anything? Even now that you're up, you still refuse to give me at least that courtesy."

He levied another, longer flurry of red afterimage-leaving swipes at his escaped prisoner. To his detriment, he found he was still unable to so much as touch her. _If I wasn't using my blade flat for fear of slicing her, each one of these attacks would have hit. Still, without aura, all I need is one solid hit to bring this to a satisfactory conclusion. _The room absorbed sound, making his own increasingly-laboured breathing the only thing he could hear. Blood pumping through his neck, pulsing past his ears.

"This has gone on long enough, Neo. It's not even funny anymore." He aimed Blush at her where she stood on the other side of the table, but didn't fire. _I don't want to kill her, and I certainly don't feel like treating a bullet wound after wasting so much time on her cold._ He'd have to just use Blush as a piece of final leverage for now, a last resort to finish the combat; until then it was little more than a bludgeon. She didn't seem intimidated by the sight of Blush being pointed at her, at all. She had gone and called his bluff.

Absconding from the limited protection afforded her by interposing the table between them, Neo shifted backwards towards the open door. If she wanted to, she could just run through it and leave. _I can't let her get out of this room, lest she get away and ruin a perfectly good hide-out. If she moves out, I'll have to use Blush. _She hadn't left when the chance had presented itself earlier, though. _What's her game?__ I can't understand what this stubborn human wants..._ Neo grabbed down, her gaze not leaving his, and found the handle of the cattle-prod. _I guess she wanted to even the playing field, dual-wield just like I am.__ I guess that's fair. The cattle-prod isn't much good in a fight, and it's not like I'm using Blush to its full power if I'm not firing it._

She tapped her stocking-clad ankle with the prod, then lifted it back up and turned the dial before she hit the power switch, making a blue spark dance between the prongs of the device. With her sword, she pointed at the cattle-prod, then at him, then at the table. Brazen remembered Bedlam's detailed description of how the girl had tortured his clone on the table with the prod, tying it to him at low power to keep his aura broken. It was such a human thing to do, torment him based on his faunus trait. _I'm not an animal! I'm a person!_ It made him a bit angry. _Good thing she's doing this to me rather than to Bedlam. He'd lose his mind over this._

"That's... not funny at all." He said, his voice icy. "I've been exceptionally forgiving of what you did to... me... in light of our shared goals, miscommunication, and your skills. Put your weapons down, lie on the table, and I'll _forgive_ this little outburst of yours, too. No harm done."

Neo moved away from the door, not dropping her weapons, warily getting into range of Wilt.

"Still thinking that you can capture me again? Maybe collect the bounty on my head, use that lien to join the pursuit of Cinder?" His voice felt so flat in the room, absorbed by the walls. _I may as well be talking at a wall, for all the response I'm getting from this intransigent pest._

No response from Neo, who just moved around him more, orbiting him like a satellite, until she stood between him and her table. Despite being within reach, he chose not to strike out at her again. He chose to keep appealing to her sense of reason, whatever little of such a thing that might exist in her.

"I told you that's a moronic plan. I'm the only one in this city who will help you fight Cinder. Anyone else would let you do it on your own, and take whoever wins down afterwards. You think that they don't know who you _are_? You think your association with Torchwick will be forgotten, ignored, or _forgiven_ by them?"

He slashed at Neo, who continued to weave through his strikes, the swaying motion of her hips and the inability of her bra to contain the veritable bounty hanging from her chest not distracting him whatsoever. _She is extremely flexible..._

"I'd certainly tell them all about that, if they get their hands on me," he threatened. "No loyalty for someone working against my goals. Cinder would do it with even less hesitation than I would. If she knew you were in the city, she'd probably do it just to deal with the loose end that you represent."

More slashes, he pursued her around the table, chasing her again, not interested at all in the way her torn pants hugged her tight ass as she fled, featherfooted steps the hallmark of a stealthy thief, away from his attempts to bring her to heel. _Maybe it is for the best that the camera wasn't in here. This whole scene is one laugh-track short of making it to the local news' highlight reel._

"You know, during our entire time planning the attack on Haven, she didn't mention Torchwick _once_?" He jeered, "if you hadn't told me about it, I wouldn't have even known he was dead."

More blue sparks in the cattle-prod, which she now sent towards him. _If that hits me at full power, it might be incapacitating._ _Is that her plan?_ He would have to make sure that didn't happen. It simply wouldn't do for Dom to get back from his chores to find the military or police all over the warehouse, Brazen captured. _I'm still at full aura, though. She'd have to hit me with that a lot to take me down._

"I guess Torchwick really wasn't that important, in the grand scheme of things." Given what Bedlam had told him about their sessions, her attachment to Torchwick should make her acutely susceptible to such remarks as these, tarnishing his name. He was right: suddenly and to his growing impatience, an opening in her defence. She'd lunged forward at him with the cattle-prod but hadn't withdrawn her missed attack in time to avoid letting him get in a quick sundering riposte. The weapon was stuck between his attack angle and the table: nowhere to go, she was badly positioned, and right in his line of fire.

His mouth transformed into a grin as, at full power, he swung at the cruel tool with Wilt's sharp side. _No reason to keep it. Easier to just sunder it now._ He could entertain no future scenario where he would even want for the device, he found it so abhorrent to his person.

The padded walls absorbed the resounding screech of metal on metal, and he winced for a moment at the sensation of resistance as his sword blasted into the table. _Full power! I don't have to use the flat of my blade on her weapons!_

He opened his eyes quickly to survey the results, and was dismayed to see that somehow she'd managed to pull the weapon back at the last moment. _There's no way she could have gotten away from that!_ All that he'd managed to accomplish was slicing through the cable that had once wound around her waist while she had lay trapped on the table. The severed halves of the cable now dropped down to the floor, and there was a solid seven centimetre gash hewn into the metal table itself.

He wrenched his blade out of the metal table. It would have been a suitable moment of weakness for Neo to launch her own offensive again, but instead she merely backed away further to the top end of the table. Recovering her stance, maybe, after nearly getting her off-hand improvised weapon destroyed. She had the combat training to know that she'd just made a huge error, and was probably struggling to get her emotions back in check so as to avoid a more fatal mistake.

"It seems I may have underestimated you, Neo. You're fast." He took a step back, "but I'm still faster, stronger, and healthier than you."

She waved the cattle-prod, pointing at it with the hand holding her sword, as if to show him evidence to the contrary.

"Honestly, if you are determined to be such a nuisance the moment you're out and about, maybe I need to reassess your value to me," Brazen huffed. "I can always ask Emerald to help, instead. Sure, it would make Cinder's bargaining position stronger to have her crony at her side, but she'd be just as invested in getting back to her boss' side as you are."

Neo pouted and shook her head with revulsion at the idea he had proffered.

"Different reasons for that, though. Oh, that's right. If I get Emerald back to Cinder - because they're separated right now - then that will just make it so much harder for you to get your little sword where you want it to go in her guts. Honestly, I doubt they care much about you. I didn't see you get an invite to their plans here in Mistral, at Haven, even though you played along with their destruction of Beacon so well. They left you behind, you're yesterday's news. Cinder and Emerald wouldn't mind, so really it comes down to my decision. My choice if you're still useful despite this little outburst... or if you deserve to die...""

Neo poked out at him with the cattle-prod again, her face setting into one of focused determination. The cattle-prod hovered above the top corner of the table now. If he had to guess, she wanted him to swing at it again in an attempt to break it, at which point she could jab at his arm or chest with her real weapon. A fair bargain for him, really: he wanted that cattle-prod broken, and he could easily manage to absorb whatever damage she could deal to him with his aura. She hadn't even hit him once, thus far, so his bar was full.

He was pretty used to taking a beating. _Thanks, SDC!_

He really was starting to get upset, now. The thought of how much time he'd already sunk into trying to convert Neo, the probability of having to live with Bedlam forever after laughing about how he was right, his disappointment in himself... and on top of everything, he would be right back to where he had started looking for Cinder. No, he had to make this work. So it wasn't really a choice between whether Neo should live or die. It was a choice between wearing her down or swapping to bloodier means of keeping her in check.

**Fear is the greatest teacher. Once her semblance is back, she can always create the illusion of still having arms. Meanwhile, there would be no concern that she will use her scroll to call in any remaining friends of hers in Mistral. She'd also probably need to rely on someone else's hands for more intimate purposes, which naturally helps out with the need to experiment with Moonbright. There is no downside!  
**

_**_**Blake stayed out of fear. Fear of Ghira's disappointment, fear that she didn't have a home to return to. Fear didn't make that relationship work.  
**_**_

_I don't want her to be afraid of me. I don't want her to fear the faunus - I need her to serve the faunus!  
_

**Just a means to an end. She is disposable, like any other human. Does she not owe the faunus an unfathomable blood-debt: just like any other member of her weak species?**

_**She is weak, human. But that doesn't mean she is useless.  
**_

_With her semblance on his side, he could move with impunity through the city. With her appearance, he could buy the information he needed from the human criminals that infested the underbelly of the city.  
_

**She has avoided every attack sent at her so far this fight. She is too dangerous, too skilled to use half-measures against. Limit her limbs and make her easier to deal with.**

_**_**She has avoided every attack sent at her so far this fight.**_**_

_How'd she recover so quickly, to be able to move like that? A few hours ago she was still labouring to breathe through snot.  
_

Epiphany.

He took a step backwards. She wiggled the cattle-prod over the table's corner, practically daring him to take the shot at it. _If I have enough aura to take a hit or ten from either of her weapons, then there's nothing stopping me from doing this._ He stooped down and took her scroll out from where it chafed against his ankle. He stood up and let it turn on, ignoring her increasingly frantic attempts to resume the scrimmage, to taunt him with exposed flesh and vulnerabilities in her defenses. "Hang on a second, Neo." He whispered lowly, finding that having spent the past few minutes talking loudly at her and chasing her around the room had left his mouth dry.

She softly moved away from him, towards the door; evidently trying to make a break for it now that he seemed unwilling to engage her. She poked her head out and looked around, taking stock of the situation her warehouse was in before moving out. Her scroll flared to life and he nodded. He moved over to the door and, despite her threatening stance with her sword as he approached, closed the portal between them with her outside and dropped Blush on the pile he had made of all her clothes while washing her. He walked back towards the empty table and spun the scroll around so that the aura-meter tied to her soul was visible to his prisoner.

_1%_

The illusion shattered, Neo's leg shooting up through the fragments of the image of the empty table that had concealed her, bending up to desperately try to snatch her scroll out of his hand with her toes. Mildly surprised as he was by her ability to bend her leg like that, he was able to keep his grip on it. He looked down at where she lay on the table, still tied by her arms though the cable around her midriff had been severed. _If I had tried to break what I saw as the cattle-prod, I would have sheared through the arm restraint cable. Clever. She was baiting me with her semblance the whole time. _He tossed Wilt into a pile of cushions near his feet, then used both hands to pry her foot off his hand.

_If I was Bedlam, that ruse might have worked._ Luckily for him, she hadn't tortured him, personally, just him, sort of. _When did having three bodies become so confusing?_

The first couple minutes of it came to mind. Not to mention many moments since.

"Well that was a quick trick, and I have to say: I nearly fell for it." He tried to remember more about Bedlam's experience with her semblance. "So your plan to escape was to have me break you out. Probably would have helped if you gave me less time to think about how quiet you were. I have to wonder: how much concentration did it take to make your bra jiggle so realistically?" He ran his right index finger up along her neck, up her cheek, until she snapped at it with her teeth. "Oh, you're a naughty little thing." He walked back over to the door and grabbed the real cattle-prod. "You seem to have really missed this, though."

Neo's eyes widened. _It was at that moment Neo knew: she'd fucked up._ She began shaking her head, flailing out with her feet as he slowly strode back towards her.

"Can't say I've ever used one of these things before. I hope I don't make a mistake. Is '1' the highest or lowest power setting? The numbers on the dial are sort of worn out and hard to read, especially with my one-eye and all..."

Neo bent her legs up over her head, grasping at her restraints with her toes and frantically trying to pull against them with all her weakness. In so doing, she left her butt pointed straight upwards.

_Smack!_

Brazen gently spanked her with the cattle-prod, making her gasp out in panic. She toppled further back over herself, falling backwards off the top of the table to which she was attached by her arms. She got as much of her petite body under the table as she could, and he heard her feet kicking at the table. He crouched down and peered at what she was doing.

"Oh, you're trying to open up that control panel with your dainty little toes?" _Well, that could be a problem._ He moved around to the front of the table, reached underneath and yanked her out. She didn't weigh much, but she squirmed and fought against his touch like an eel out of water: it didn't help that her body was slick with remnant fever-sweat. Regardless of those issues, he flipped her back over and slammed her back down on the table, taking the air out of her. "I guess the cable that went around your middle is unsalvageable."

He threw the cattle-prod over towards Blush, but didn't let his eyes leave Neo's mismatched pair to see where it landed.

"Your semblance is back, you're getting better." He stated, holding her down with his hand firmly on her belly button. "So tell me, Neopolitan. Do you want to help me find Cinder? Do you accept my terms: you'll serve me, you'll do what I say, and when we find Cinder, you'll stay your blade until I say otherwise?"

Neo held his gaze and bit her lip.

He bent down and picked up Torchwick's hat, where it lay beside the table. He put it on her head. "He'd agree that its the smart play to play the long game."

At the sight of the hat, small tears began to form in her eyes.

"Last chance, Neo: are you out?" His hand drifted down her body, smoothly slipping along the last bit of her abdomen, "or are you _in_?" A gloved finger laid a glancing swipe along her femininity. As he did, she let out a breathier gasp, then nodded, breaking her return of his gaze as she closed her eyelids.

"Still not willing to talk?" He pressed his finger more firmly into her, eliciting a slight moan from her. With his other hand, he raised Wilt over his head. "So be it."

He brought Wilt's sharp edge down in a blur of red.

~J~

**What is a 'scroll'?**

Adam stoked his hairless chin. He was definitely no technician, was not qualified to explain how scrolls or the CCT system worked. "They are machines, powered by dust - I think - that humans designed to let themselves talk, take pictures, play games. They monitor aura, too."

Dai continued to stare at the floating circle, her brow furrowed in concentration as she gave the various Adams new scrutiny as they typed, swiped, and otherwise used their handheld devices.

"Most scrolls run the SDC's proprietary software, like you'd see on Neopolitan's. My scroll runs the Flaming Operating System, or FlamingOS, because I guess the guy who designed it felt it was a good personal joke about his avian traits merged with the Fang's goal of being a fire of revolution." Adam continued, trying to list anything else he knew about scrolls. "They connect to the local tower in cities, which in turn connects to the towers in other cities. Or, at least, they did before Cinder and I destroyed the tower in Vale. For some reason that disrupted the other three, so now the towers just connect the scrolls within their own range without being able to communicate with their siblings. I have no idea why that is."

**There were _FOUR_ towers?**

In the couple of weeks that he had been constantly in the company of the daemon, Adam had begun to gain a sense of her moods. Right now, he got the sense that she was _furious_.

"There were..." he began, cautiously, "one in each of the Kingdoms: Vale, Atlas, Mistral and Vacuo. There are also numerous support towers scattered around, to relay the network to smaller outlying settlements, but if those go offline it does not take down the entire system. I should know, I've blown up a fair share of them when raiding the SDC's labs and mines."

He picked up the bucket of popcorn, which was somehow perpetually full, and took a handful as he stretched back to watch Brazen enter Neo's prison. The popcorn and Dai's mood were forgotten as Brazen dodged the first swipe Neo sent at him. Dai seemed distracted, watching Dominic go through a list of local faunus contacts in Mistral on his scroll rather than the unfolding drama at the warehouse. Adam rushed over and grabbed ahold of Brazen's ring, diving into the scene.


	19. Bad Track Record

**Still rated M!**

* * *

**DOMINIC**

The faunus were stronger. He knew it, with every fibre of his being. They deserved to take their place of ascendancy, to lay claim to what was rightfully theirs: the entire world. Humans had stymied them long enough. He would bring his people to glory, _if only they would let him_. Haven only stood because the strength of the faunus had been divided by the traitors. As he strode down the ramshackle streets of the faunus district, his broad, magnificent goals were given clarity again. These slums, the way filth literally fell from the humans down onto his people - he would find a way to stop it. If Blake and Ghira and Sienna insisted on useless dialogue with their sworn enemies, with tacit acceptance of the status quo, then he would continue his fight for justice without them.

Fighting alone didn't bother him. He'd been alone for so long. Alone at the top, at the forefront of his war against the humans. Alone at the bottom, in the darkness...

_I'm not alone, anymore_, he thought, rubbing his finger. For the first time, he felt like he had finally come to find reliable help in his quest. Himselves. Since using the relic, his mind was able to finally focus on what was important, what was necessary. He didn't want to seem egotistical - even if he was a paragon of virtue, power, and drive - but who else but himself could he really rely on in this messed up world?

He had trusted his fellow SDC labourers: they had abandoned him in the mines, taking the easy option and fleeing to the light of the surface. They hadn't even tried to get him up. They'd left him in the dark, surrounded by grimm and lost in a maze.

He had trusted Blake: she had abandoned him in the middle of their work, refusing to continue along the path they had started down together and fleeing to the light of Beacon. She hadn't even tried to see things from his perspective. She'd left him in the dark, too, albeit less literally. She'd never given him any sign that she'd leave him. Sure, she'd voiced a complaint here and there about the growing body count, but he wasn't willing to abandon the cause like her parents just because of a bit of blood getting spilled. _When you fight, people get hurt._ Humans deserved to get hurt more than his people, right? Even now, he still couldn't figure out why Blake had left him. Not that it mattered. All that mattered was that she had, and that he had moved on now (sort of).

He'd trusted his followers in Mistral's White Fang branch: they'd abandoned the cause, refusing to do what was necessary and stand against Ghira and forcing him to withdraw after Sun pointed out that he was on his own. They rejected the bright future he had offered them, his promises of a new world order, preferring to let the faunus continue to scrounge about in the darkness while Ghira _negotiated_. That man and his useless idealism: what had it ever won them? Humans cannot understand reason, they had only responded to violence; they had only responded with fear.

He growled to himself. _Humans_. He was confident that Brazen knew what he was doing, getting so deeply associated with them, but still he had reservations about that association. Cinder was one thing: Cinder had delivered Vale to him on a platter; she was a key to the door of a vast repository of secrets. A key that could then be discarded as his need for her waned. Neo, on the other hand...

_Certainly attractive_, he was forced to concede. _For a human_. That was the problem, though. How could the High Leader, the saviour of the faunus, have a human beside him? _It must be made clear that she is not beside me... she must be underneath. Subservient, as I promised my people all humans are wont to be._ Otherwise, his reputation would suffer.

"Or, I could simply make my multiplicity more well-known," he muttered. Certainly there would come a day, after his fight was won, that he could stand side-by-side with his clones in the light, basking in the adoration of his people, unafraid to reveal the power of the relic to them. _Is that where I see myselves when all this is over? Brazen with my revelations into the unknown, Bedlam with my resolved past with Blake, and me with my revolution victorious?_ There would no longer be a need to hide in the shadows...

He looked down at himself. Disguised, hidden, forsaken. It gave him an idea for another option for Neo, beyond killing her or taming her. _Her semblance would let her appear as a faunus... she could stand alongside us, if she looked right for the part_. Brazen's remark lingered in his mind. As devoted to the cause as he was, he was still male. He continued walking to his destination, his ruminations on how he and Brazen could _explore_ Moonbright with Neo ending only as he stepped onto the threshold of a dilapidated building, the first of several locations he sought to visit before the end of the day.

Knock. Knock. Knock, knock.

Time to see what was left of his support base in the city after two weeks of having been forced back into the shadows.

He waited at the door for a minute, hearing no movement from within. Passerby shot him the occasional look, making him feel more than slightly self-conscious. _My disguise is fine, they're just looking at me like they would any other person they come upon,_ he reassured himself.

Knock. Knock. Knock, knock. He rapped his gloved knuckles again against the door. He looked around at the passerby, visually daring them to bother him or keep looking his way. They kept walking along.

He stepped back from the door and regarded the building. The windows were boarded up with planks of moss-covered wood. The shingles on the roof were well-weathered, many having fallen down onto the street and leaving small holes; it wasn't like they had rain in the undercity here, so why bother paying to fix the shack up? In any event, it appeared that nobody was home. _Maybe they're out at work or something._ It was fine, there were still other White Fang supporters and safehouses in the neighbourhood that he needed to check in on; he would just come back here at the end of the circuit.

Avoiding the busier streets, he slipped stealthily through alleys and over fences. The next place was an accountant, the White Fang's local numbers-man who had been responsible for organizing the flow of lien from the city to Sienna's cavernous sanctum and then back out to the brotherhood's agents, paying for things as mundane as clothes or as criminal as bribes and weapon shipments. Dominic knew the man's identity since he had led the Fang, and hoped that the high level of clearance needed to know that info had kept the humans unaware of his existence. _Did anyone who was captured at Haven know about him_? Dominic didn't know, hence the trip to find out.

The office-and-residence of the man was a quaint little affair. Innocuous, nothing that would make the humans suspect the importance it held for the faunus freedom fighters skulking about under their vainglorious city that rose up to intrude upon the peaktop clouds. He walked up to the business entrance and tried the door.

It was locked.

Dom regarded the hours of operation, and noted that the sign listed no times open during the week. Every day was listed as CLOSED. Peering in through the window, since the curtain rod was bare, he saw that the entire office was empty. The hardwood floor was clean, and he saw where some areas had once been covered by desks, chairs, bookcases. They were gone, now.

"He's packed up shop," a voice called from the street. He turned around and saw Lichen standing there, wearing her grease-covered work outfit. Evidently on her way home from a shift at the factory where she worked for sub-minimal, sub-human, wage. "I'm surprised to see that you haven't joined him in leaving town, after the message you left for me with Salt."

"Where?" Dom asked simply.

"Didn't you hear?" Lichen replied, drawing towards him to allow their conversation to be conducted in hushed whispers, "Ghira and the Prince chartered every transport ship in the harbour to take our people to Menagerie. He's offered free passage to any faunus who wants it; I hear the human government was happy to oblige. They're leaving port today, in fact, but most who're going have already boarded up and boarded ship."

_So that's why I can't get a ship to Vacuo. That's why Salt insisted that I turn myselves in to Ghira and flee to Menagerie._ Dominic realized. He'd let himself get distracted by the drama unfolding between Bedlam, Brazen, and Neo. He'd spent his time keeping his body in shape when he could have been delving deeper into what Ghira and his human allies were scheming. He'd been hiding. _Maybe I'm just not used to having followers around to handfeed me information... I've become lax, relying on others. Even now, I've been relying on Brazen and Bedlam to bring me interesting news, just like I would before on my throne, listening to the reports brought to me. At least I can trust what they tell me, though._

"I'd say it has left a lot of free real estate around here but," she gestured to the ramshackle houses, the listing buildings and overall disrepair of the area, "most of these places aren't worth the lien it would cost to make it to Menagerie."

Wheels continued to grind against one another in Dominic's mind as his thoughts churned out. He felt a twinge of remorse, a bit of anger, but overall the situation left him feeling rather hollow. He'd only cared about getting to Vale, essentially ignoring anything else that didn't directly affect him, like when Bedlam broke his aura. _Maybe it is for the best. If the locals are going to Menagerie, I don't think I could have stopped that. I don't know if I should have stopped that._ He'd been so focused on hanging out at the transit hub looking for a ship, he hadn't thought to look into _why_ a coastal capital city had no ships heading to Vacuo. He had been so careful to be hidden that he hadn't seen Ghira's agents gathering up the locals. He hadn't even bothered to ask Salt why she was so insistent on Ghira; he'd thought it was just the speeches he had been making on the news. "So, you're on your way there now?"

"Oh, skies no. I'm staying in Mistral. I've got a steady job that'll make up for this one-" she gestured at the vacant accountancy office with her thumb, "-not paying me a stipend."

"You do _own_ your house, Lichen." Unlike many, she didn't have to deal with mortgage payments, thanks to the White Fang. He looked at the office, "so that's it? They're all willing to just throw their memories away, pack up shop and leave to go to the _charity_ continent?" He sneered the last two words, leaving no doubt as to his thoughts on accepting handouts from humans over taking what was wanted.

"Yeah, that house and four-hundred lien would get me halfway to Menagerie. Not many happy memories here, for most. I imagine most of them would have gone to Menagerie earlier, but either couldn't afford the passage or were afraid of the dangers inherent to such long-distance travel. There are such terrible stories about bandits and grimm out in the wilds, or even at sea. Which is the real reason I'm staying, I suppose."

"You don't think the trip will be safe for Ghira?" _Ghira always did have bad luck while travelling, but he's always gotten where he wanted to go before,_ Dominic thought idly; Ghira was, regrettably, a hard man to stop once he had set his mind to something. _Stubborn as an ox_, he chuckled internally. Just like his daughter's bovine-esque herd mentality, Ghira inverted the human's perception of the faunus as having character traits akin to their physical traits. _Meanwhile I'm prowling solo like a panther, sleek and silent and dark, through the city streets._ Take that, stereotypes!

"No, I'm sure a group that size will be safe enough." Lichen stated. "I'm staying because Salt wants to go to school here, to become a huntress and make it safe for people to travel. She had had hope that you would see reason and convince your brother to go to Menagerie. Us faunus could create our own Huntsman Academy... Adam could be a professor, do some real good for our people. You too, I imagine."

"Real good?" Dominic growled, "so what... so what _my brother_," -he nearly slipped up and said _I-_ "did for you all those years ago wasn't _real good_? You think that if he'd been in Menagerie sitting behind a desk that you would have gotten out of that crate?"

Lichen's eyes narrowed, "that's not what I! I didn't mean... I can't believe he told you..."

"I won't hold this against the ones who choose to flee rather than fight." Dominic said, taking one last look at the office before taking a few steps away from it back to the street. "At least they won't get in the way of those of us still willing to do what is necessary to ensure the future of the faunus."

"The future of the faunus will be ensured by peace, Taurus. We have to make a choice about what sort of world we want to leave to Salt."

"You're wrong, Lichen. I can forgive you, but you are ignorant and wrong." Dominic sighed, "this world has pulled the cloth over your eyes, the government hides the truth from the people. Maybe Ghira knows, maybe he doesn't. There are forces, great and terrible, aligned against us. Not just humans. More than grimm."

Lichen began to step after him, trying to keep pace with his increasingly long strides into the empty street.

"Beacon was just the start. Haven won't be the end. I refuse to let our people share humanity's fate. Not going to fall alongside my oppressors." Dominic said, then turned around and faced Lichen. He took out his scroll and turned it on. "I refuse to let our people remain in the darkness."

"What are you saying? I don't understand."

"You don't have to understand, just know that I'm doing what is best for the faunus. I always will." He spun the scroll around for her to see. "These names. Do you know if they are on Ghira's ships?"

Lichen scanned the list, nodding slowly as she read each name. "Yes. Yes, I think all of them are leaving. So many faunus are taking the offer, the news announced estimated numbers a few hours ago. Filled with hope and optimism fed by Ghira's positivity. They kept it out of the news until now to keep the general human population from getting involved. A lot of businesses, factories, and companies are about to lose their cheapest source of labour. I'm actually sort of surprised the government supported this."

"I'm sure they got something from Ghira in return..." Dominic snarled. "That's how negotiations work." _What did you sell them, Ghira? Was this what Sienna's base bought us, or was it something else that paid for your ships?_ It was infuriating to think for long about the way Ghira treated with their foes. _Why negotiate, why play their game of this-for-that, when we can take what we want? When it should be a game of take that-and-that?_

"You should go to the docks, Dominic. Talk with Ghira, he'll tell you about the parts of Adam that your beloved brother won't mention."

_Lady, I've seen my own naked bodies and fought beside myself against grimm and human alike, until a couple weeks ago my thoughts were all packed into the same picturesque physique; there's nothing hidden between my brothers and I... except maybe the fact that Bedlam wasn't fond of my clothing purchase to replace the stuff Neopolitan wrecked._

Lichen didn't know that, though. With a somewhat guilty expression now on his face, Dominic turned off his scroll. "I trust my brother. A single simple secret or two doesn't change that." He pocketed the scroll. "I have other business to conduct around the city, but I might at least see the ship off."

Lichen began walking away towards her home. "Keep yourselves safe."

"I shall. Despite our... differences... it is still nice to see you. Stay safe as well."

Dominic watched her leave, then looked back at the empty accountancy office. With his list of faunus scrapped by Lichen, his schedule had cleared up significantly. _I guess I'll go get that camera that Bedlam stashed in Blake's house, head to the docks to see Ghira take off, then pick up some more__ food. _After that, maybe he could introduce himself to Neopolitan.

~J~

**BEDLAM**

The last vestiges of moonlight reflected off the frosted landscape that whirled by in a blur of black, white, and green beyond the pane of glass. All indistinguishable from the scenery of the past few days but for the growing amount of snow accumulated on the ground as they moved further north, the light of the dawn presuming itself over its celestial neighbour. It had been a quiet trip towards Argus so far, making regular stops at small walled settlements along the coastline. They were moving faster, now, no more stops left until their destination, but it would still be a couple days of travel yet. He looked over at the snoring lump that was his elderly cabin-mate. Even if she wasn't snoring loud enough to make up for the silent passage of the gravity-dust powered train's, his common sense would ensure that he remained awake. _Not like I sleep much anymore._ She had - outside of her sleeping - been quiet for the entire trip, spending her time reading newspapers and other literature kept aboard by the train company. She left the cabin rarely: to get food or use the bathroom, during which times Bedlam was left on edge on the strong chance she come back with one of the huntsmen (who were ostensibly hired to protect the train from the dangers of the picturesque landscape floating by outside, but seemed to be trying to make some extra lien on the side) to deal with him, but she didn't. Bedlam had had the pleasure of watching Calavera deal with the pair of them once. They had come by to inform the occupants of the cabin that, 'thanks to our diligence, the train remains safe from grimm or other threats'; it would have been more intimidating if they hadn't been boasting that to a cabin hosting a stowaway international terrorist. For Bedlam, though, the knowledge that the local security detail was a pair of meat-headed thugs actually did help him relax a bit.

_Just not enough to let me sleep.  
_

He looked at his hand, removing his glove. The finger was still a mess. Aura had stopped the bleeding, fought off infection, but the cuticle was lost. He wasn't sure if it would ever come back. He wondered if it would come back if he merged into one of his clones, or if the resultant being would still lack the fingernail. _Did Dai say what merging would do to the physical body?_ He didn't remember it being mentioned. He looked over at the source of the snoring again. Certainly Calavera 'seemed' to be sleeping, but it could just as easily be a human ruse. He didn't know her, he didn't know who she was or who she worked for. All he knew for certain was that she looked old, acted calm, had as much luggage as he did, and that she ate cashews passionately.

He wanted to draw Wilt.

He wanted to use his scroll. He'd done as Dominic had requested and made a journal entry during his one foray out of the cabin where he was hid away. Now he had something he'd rather not forget to ask them about the next time he saw them - about what would happen to his fingernail if he merged with them - but he couldn't write it into the journal for fear of his signature weapon giving him away to his current company.

_That's not true_, he silently chuckled, _maybe they'd think me the bandit Raven Branwen._ He looked over at one of the complimentary Mistralian newspapers that had been provided to the cabin which his cabin-mate had perused, with the large title **Government Reinforces Kuchinashi** hanging over the image of his self, or rather, Dominic, slicing through the Nevermore Alpha with Moonslice. It was a grainy image, distorted, and when he saw the image had had a moment of panic as he thought that Calavera would certainly realize who he was. She hadn't. Bedlam was left with the satisfaction of knowing that the moment had gained some measure of immortality without any consequences for him getting caught on camera.

It had been an awesome thing to see himself do.

However, the fact that Dominic, covered in small grimm, had been mistaken for a middle-aged human bandit woman? Well, as previously mentioned, Bedlam wanted to use his scroll. There were things that he wanted to make a note of to bring up the next time he was able to chat with his duplicates. He would get a good laugh about this one day. After that slim outfit that Brazen had worn after they had looted the abandoned farmhouse outside Ilhari - an image that didn't make him question his sexuality at all - and Dominic's own apparent femininity, Bedlam was the last version of Adam to not have found himself confused for a girl.

_Not an achievement I'd ever have thought I'd be in possession of... or so strangely satisfied by._

He looked at his outfit. Rather, Brazen's original outfit that he had removed from the office that it had been thrown into, to replace both his own tattered original and the substandard replacement Dom had procured for him. He couldn't blame Dom, of course, since Adam had never really understood size measurements. Why was an Atlas large a Mistral medium shirt? _Hopefully Brazen won't mind, but I sort of was in a rush to get on the train and didn't have time to go on another shopping run_. He tried to justify the necessity of the swap. He felt a bit guilty about it: he certainly could have gone out clothes shopping again after planting the spy camera at Blake's house. Instead, he'd been all-too-happy to keep sparring with Dominic, relishing in the slight combat advantage he somehow had. Maybe it was the extra practice fighting the grimm through the cave, maybe it was the added heft in his hilt from the addition of his scroll. _I'm sure Brazen has plenty of time to get new clothes to his liking while he is looking for Cinder._ Maybe it was the focus granted to him by the lingering itch on his mangled finger, an extra kick to motivate him to be stronger. To be better than he was, to not get caught by humans again.

The memories of being held by Neo lingered in his mind. He hated the human, had wanted so badly to simply shove Wilt into her abdomen and give it a twirl. Like making cotton-candy on a stick, but with her entrails. _It would have been so cathartic_. For some reason, perhaps for the sake of reason itself, he'd managed to stay his wrath. He'd realized that she might serve him better alive, via serving Brazen. The strange swirl of thoughts that had run through his head as he finally managed to extricate himself from that dreadful bondage had faded into memory, just leaving the lasting impression of conflict. He hadn't been sure what to do. He hoped that Brazen made good use of his difficult decision to spare the human. If anything, he and Brazen were square: the cost of keeping the human alive was letting Bedlam borrow his shirt. A fair trade.

Yes, everything was even between them, as it should be.

The snoring stopped. The lump rose up from under her bed sheets and, though her eyes were mechanical, she still swiped at them as if to clear them. "Mister Bedlam. Did you sleep well?"

"As well as ever, I suppose."

She snorted derisively, "you stayed awake all night again, didn't you?" She shook her head and rose out of her bed or, in her case, fell down to the floor. He'd thought Neopolitan was short of stature, but this woman made Neopolitan appear tall. He wondered if this was some running joke in his life: every woman he met henceforth would be smaller and smaller.

"What's so funny?" She asked.

_Oh, I think I just laughed aloud. _Maybe he did need to get some sleep. _Maybe there will be time for sleep later._

"Well I am going to go see what they have on sale for breakfast. Do you want anything? You're welcome to come along, too..." she plied him with her big blue eyes and grating whine like she had the past couple days. "I could use some help getting the plates in the cupboard from a nice tall man such as yourself."

"Best if I stay in here. I'd eat a pastry, though." It was easy to slip tranquilizers into liquids, but if they tried to poison or drug a pastry his faunus senses had a good chance of detecting it.

Calavera shrugged, then shuffled out of the room. Bedlam was left with his thoughts. _Blake is in car five_, he thought. Close to car four, where they sold food to passengers. He had made one trip out of his current cabin the first evening to scout the train out, and had discovered the whereabouts of Blake and her team. She had her three teammates in there with her, and the rooms on either side housed the other students and the alcoholic huntsman they were led by. He had spent a full day running through ideas on how to take Blake despite that. The idea of charging in, grabbing Blake, and blasting a hole in the side of the train, while an elegant and easy plan, left something to be desired. What would he do once the pair of them were on the crisp ground outside, other than tumble down the hillside together? Drag Blake back to Mistral? He felt like the disturbance he would cause her companions would enable them to quickly give chase. He could charge in and just eradicate his target. If one of his brothers would charge Moonslice, or if he could figure out a way to do it here, he could make it work. _Maybe if I revealed myself to Dee or Dudley, those hired-huntsmen for the train, I could kill the pair of them and store up some charge for my semblance without alerting Blake, then charge into her room and unleash it on her before she could prepare her defences or shadow-clone away to safety._ There were a lot of 'ifs' in that situation. He also didn't like the lack of satisfaction the quick kill would bring him. Blake had to _suffer_. She had to be made to experience a fraction of the agony she had dealt him with her treachery, her scheming against him. Killing her while she slept with a single well-placed blow would be almost a kindness. A kindness she didn't deserve from him. He looked at the image of her on his scroll.

Maybe one day Sun and Ilia would thank him for ridding them of their association with Blake. 'Thank you so much, Adam, for getting us out of those toxic relationships we had with her that made us do foolish, stupid things that set back the cause of faunus liberty a century', they would say. 'How could we have known that she was such a terrible person?'

It wasn't Sun's fault Blake had kissed him. That had been her choice.

_Ugh_. Choice. His choice on how and when to deal with Blake. His choice to become Bedlam. His choice to pursue Blake alone, leaving his clones behind. What was the right choice?

A knock came at the door. Bedlam didn't bother to answer it. The knock came again. He heard voices from the hall: Dee and Dudley, making their rounds. Then the voice of Calavera. The door slid open.

"This next stretch of track is mostly uninhabited, notorious for having a lot of grimm nests. It sure would help to have a pair of strong, _well-fed_ huntsmen on duty while we go through it." Dee said while eyeing the plates of food Maria held in her hands with a hungry gleam. "Surely you don't think you could eat _all_ of those jelly tarts..."

"I'm still a growing boy here," Dudley added, a little bit of drool dripping out of his mouth as he flanked her.

"Oh, go bother someone else today!" the elderly woman admonished, trying to weave through the burly men into her cabin.

"I just want to point out how unfair it is that the company makes us pay for food just like passengers," Dudley said, "it's almost like they _want_ us to go hungry."

Maria elbowed him in the gut, which softly flared with his aura, "maybe you could stand to go hungry every now and then. I've seen less pudge on a Mistralian opera cast."

"Fond of the opera, are you?" Dee inquired.

"Pretty expensive hobby, that is," Dudley added as the eager grin on his face grew twofold in size.

Bedlam rose to his feet, having grown tired of watching the routine exchange days prior. He wordlessly grabbed the plates from Calavera, put them down on her bed, then slammed the door in the face of the huntsmen once she squirmed through the mass of flesh they attempted to put between her and her room.

The knock, much louder, sounded on the door, followed by the muffled 'screw it, man, let's go see if the other cars have bought breakfast yet..."

Which was followed by the muffled response, "yeah, maybe someone has bacon or something up the train."

"Scum," Bedlam said.

"I find myself agreeing with that, sadly." Calavera said, to her bed and taking a plate. "Huntsmen used to be honourable defenders of the people, they used to be... _better_."

"If you say so. I've only known them to be like that or worse. Being faunus has never been easy."

"Well, I'm sure it was never because of your glowing personality. Here," she handed him the plate of jelly tarts, "eat up."

His wariness - Blake called it paranoia - fought against his hunger. _I'll need my strength for the fight to come_, he decided, and took the plate. They didn't smell or look poisoned.

Maria sat down on her bed and began eating her own breakfast: a juice-box, a few slices of cheese, and a bowl of green berries that Bedlam couldn't identify doused with syrup.

"So, have you figured out how you're going to get into Atlas?" Bedlam asked. Maria had mentioned the day before that she was on her way to Mantle to get routine maintenance done on her eye-tech, but she lacked any typical means of getting to her goal: she wasn't an Atlesian citizen, and the Kingdom had closed its borders to everyone else.

"Oh, the borders can't remain closed forever. I'm sure they'll open up any day now." Maria popped a spoonful of berries into her mouth and chewed them for a minute. "They're going into winter, they'll need to trade with Mistral for food besides seafood and snow eventually."

Bedlam snorted, "that's pretty optimistic. They're stubborn and set in their ways up north. If they don't have to open their borders, I doubt they will. Despite common perceptions, they do grow a lot of their own food, and are reasonably good at storing it." _The food doesn't spoil in the cold, unlike the humans._

"What about you? Why are you heading to Argus? You've been noticeably recalcitrant to share anything about that."

"Recalcitrant sums me up well."

"Are you running away from Mistral now that the White Fang is changing?" Maria asked pointedly, "I know that they had a large presence in the Kingdom, and now that their organization is changing a lot of faunus don't know what the future holds for them."

He nibbled on his jelly tart rather than answer.

"The White Fang wasn't all bad. They did some good. They did some bad. No more than could be said for most anyone, these days..." she looked at the doorway, sadly, evoking the memory of the resident guardians trying to shake passengers down to sate their own appetites. "At least they're trying to do something, I guess."

"The White Fang doesn't define me anymore." Bedlam admitted. "They might have, once, but now... I'm not sure what defines me. I just want things to be how I thought they would be by now. I just want the people I cared for to still..."

Maria nodded. "Time has a way of doing that. I've certainly had my share of it."

"Share of what?" Bedlam asked, "you're not a faunus, are you?"

"What? Oh, no my boy, I'm human for a few generations back at least as far as I know. No, I meant time. I'm an old woman." She put her bowl of berries down, pinched her arm with her fingers and pulled the wrinkled skin out. "I'm old! Hahahaha!"

Bedlam took another bite of his jelly tart. His face might be concealed by his hood and blindfold, but he kept his eyes on her. He might be slightly obsessive, but he kept thinking that Maria might be quantifiably insane.

_Behold, the ravages of age!_

"But in all seriousness, you probably should-"

The train shook. An inhuman screech pierced through the train's metal walls and echoed through the cabin. It seemed like the train was finally going to see some attention from the local grimm population. Maria nervously stroked her walking stick.

"Don't worry, I'm sure that our resident protectors will safeguard us from the grimm. They didn't look that hungry." Bedlam teased nonchalantly.

"At least the ride will be more peaceful if they're out doing their job rather than bothering me," she replied. She picked up her juice-box and seemed to calm down a bit.

"Even if they're not up to the task, I know there are a few more capable folks on the train with us that will could lend them a hand. Some of the huntsmen-in-training from Beacon, the ones who were at Haven a couple weeks back, are aboard."

Maria's eyes squinted at him, silently asking him why he would know that. She probably didn't need to ask; she could probably put the pieces together. He was faunus. He had been White Fang. The people who had stirred up the White Fang were on the train.

The train shook again, with what appearing to be grimm-fire splashing down the window as the roof above them took a hit from whatever monsters were chasing them. He hadn't seen grimm that strong since the wyvern at Beacon; grimm with elemental attacks were thankfully rare, but not unknown. He didn't even know if humans and faunus had discovered all the different kinds of grimm that existed in Remnant. Brazen's conversation with Salem through a novel grimm variety hinted at that.

Blake's team would leap at the chance to fight some grimm. They'd be rushing out of their rooms, probably already on top of the train. _A grimm attack might be the perfect distraction to take Blake, or a terrible time. All the adrenaline of the fight would have her team on high alert._ Better to wait it out for now.

"AAAAAAH!"

Bedlam watched through the window as the body of Dee was carried away by some flying nastiness, which dropped the useless human huntsman a hundred meters into a snow-capped pine forest below.

"I feel safer already!" Bedlam deadpanned. Maria gave a resigned sigh.

~J~

The fight was not going in the train's favour. Dudley had crawled back into the car with a shattered arm; Blake's team was still all together, now arguing with Dudley to turn off the Atlas-designed defensive turrets. Bedlam had to wonder why the turrets could be deactivated at all: wouldn't it be safer to just have them on all the while, rather than relying on an incompetent boob like Dudley to have the presence of mind during a grimm assault to turn them on? Bedlam and Maria were cramped into one of the seat-filled passenger cars with the rest of the non-combatants, as Maria had felt like the front of the train would be safer during the battle. It seemed the bulk of the passengers had the same idea. He couldn't hear what was happening in the adjacent car, where his target was, for the din of terrified humans pressing in all around him.

_Can't they all shut up for one minute and let me overhear what Blake is saying up there?_ Useless humans!

**"Passengers, this is your conductor speaking. We regret to inform you that we will be detaching the back four passenger cars and the caboose for routine maintenance. For those passengers who currently occupy a seat or cabin in those affected areas, the Argus Ltd will partially refund your ticket and provide you with complimentary seating in car four. If you have personal items or luggage in the aforementioned area, we request that you remove them presently. Thank you for your patronage."**

"Well, I'd better go fetch my things." Maria sighed and Bedlam nodded, content to stick to the shadows and watch as Blake's allies, team JNR, came into the car. They began assisting the civilians, trying to calm them down and organize their relocation to the front. _What is their plan?_

The efforts of Blake's friends was mostly wasted: the desperate cries, arguments, and shoving as people forced their way through one another to get their precious things, to claim space for themselves in the front. Bedlam wondered what was taking Maria so long. _Here I am, saving her a bloody seat, and she's taking her sweet time getting her luggage._ He chewed on a new jelly tart- the general upset mood had left the food counter completely unguarded, and Bedlam had felt the need to _indulge_ a bit. This one was a delicious yellow lemon-filled number that-

Wait.

He didn't know much about Maria Calavera. For whatever reason, she hadn't snitched on him to anybody - even when the staff had come knocking on their door or the huntsmen came to try to shake her down for extra surcharges for the journey. All he really knew was that she was ridiculously old, acted lucid at times, had as much luggage as he did, and that she ate pretty much anything with the manners and grace of a starving faunus fresh out of a nine-week stint in the mines.

_Has as much luggage as I do_.

He lurched up out of his seat and began climbing over the mass of humans to get to the back of the train. Every single person seemed intent on blocking his passage, like they were all in on some secret plan to bar his way. More than once he had to snarl threateningly to get the attention of some space-taking idiot with their back turned to him. As his progress continued to be impeded, he began simply shoving people to the side. He heard the mechanical screech as the roof-mounted turrets retracted into their sockets, and wondered why they would de-activate the defences. _What's the point of a weapon if you aren't going to use it?_ A passenger yelled out as Bedlam forcefully pushed him into a nearby seated passenger's lap.

"Sir, there's no need for that! Please just find a seat... we'll protect you!" Blake's friend, the red-cloaked Ruby who had feasted on cookies in the dark, admonished him as she saw his crude approach, but then she opened the side door and disappeared out as a red blur. He shut the door, reeling backwards, momentarily blinded, as the darkness of the tunnel they had been shielded by suddenly returned to the albedo vista of the snowy forest. He was thankful to have his blindfold and drawn-down hood in place to safeguard his eyes from the brightness.

He heard movement from the next car and began walking towards it. He peered through the window and there, standing alone, was Blake. Her attention seemed to be on someone behind her on the roof of the train. Bedlam removed his weapon from his back by unlatching the buckle that wrapped around his torso, placing his constant companion once more at his hip. _She's right there_. Reason be damned, _she's right in front of me._

Her hair billowing behind her in the rush of air, her perfect complexion and amber eyes...

She drew her weapon. Had she seen him? She wasn't even looking this way. Had she heard him with those soft, sensitive ears of hers, finally exposed to the world again? How he had despised the sight of her hiding her heritage at Beacon, ashamed of who she was. Ashamed to be associated with him, what she had turned him into.

She dropped down from the roof and struck with her cleaver-form weapon, severing the train cars. _She... she did it again!_

_What is it with the pair of us and trains?_

He realized that his body had moved through the door and was now standing on the balcony of what was now the end of his side of the Argus Limited. She looked up and her eyes widened in shock as she saw him.

He scowled as he saw the back of young Oscar above her, turned away for the moment to watch the flock of winged grimm closing the distance to the train but ready to shout a warning to the rest of the humans if he should hear Blake in danger.

_This is a bad idea_. Bedlam realized, regaining motor control and his presence of mind. In a spray of concealing snow as the train plowed through a snowbank, he slipped back through the doors and crouched down to get himself out of the windowframe. He tried to think of what the next best course of action would be.

He had to get to where Blake was, which presently seemed to be an increasingly distant set of unpowered train cars. He sighed. _I never even found Maria_, he scolded himself. Maybe she had managed her way to get back to the food car without him noticing.

There was no way that Blake was going to get back on this half of the train. It was obvious now to him that their plan was to divide the targets, try to lure the grimm away from the passengers while also letting them fight with no restraints for fear of harming 'innocents'. Without the fear of hurting humans huddled below, the huntresses would probably have a good chance of defeating those grimm. No matter whether they defeated the grimm or not, the back half of the train was unpowered: the gravity dust track would keep it lifted, but without the front engine pulling it, Blake would be stranded.

She'd have to walk the rest of the way. Bedlam remembered before, when she'd cut another train they'd been on, stranding him in the middle of Forever Fall forest. It had been an awful trek to get back to camp, where he had to tell the huddle of loyalists he had started with upon arrival in Vale that his trusted second had betrayed them, that he hadn't managed to do more than prevent the train's arrival at station (_'we need drive the trucks into the forest to offload the supplies before an SDC recovery team gets there'_) and that he required medical attention from a scuffle he'd gotten into with several large ursa grimm that had taken umbrage at his intrusion into their section of forest. Knowing Blake would have to walk away from a stranded train seemed poetic, yes; knowing Blake would have to walk to Argus didn't actually help him, though. He had to tail her, not wait for her, lest she somehow get away. What if this had all been a ruse to throw him off her scent? She called him paranoid, but she was notoriously so herself. Paranoid and clever.

It was easy to love her.

_I'll have to jump off this I guess._ He hoped that the distraction provided by the remaining grimm would prevent them from noticing his movement. He stood up.

Everything went grey.

He slumped down, his head finding itself in someone's lap. He looked up slowly, and saw the human's head drooping to the side, their eyes glazed over and breathing slowing to a regular pace rather than the panicked beat that it had been keeping during the evacuation. His own frantic thoughts found themselves evening out, he felt relaxed. What had he been so worried about before? It didn't seem to be important now.

_Need to get to Blake!_

(Or I could just sit here for a while.)

_She's getting away..._

(She was still likely heading to Argus. So what if he beat her there? He could use a break... he could use a nap...)

_Could miss only chance to find resolution with her._

(Meh. So it goes.)

****The paradox of choice, freedom and bondage. **What direction would you follow? Do you accept the gift?  
**

_I have work to do._

Bedlam struggled to his feet, his thoughts sharpening: honed by his existential focus on his singular driving purpose. He noted with some concern that the people around him seemed listless, their very colours faded into dimmer grey hues. His own tones were returning to vibrancy. He forced himself to march to the rear door and swung it open. Far away, in the distance, a burst of pronounced orange beyond the haze of the snowstorm, beyond the tiresome snowy white and dark stone and pine green that dominated the landscape's palette.

Like the railway, his path forward was straight.

With the difficulty of getting out of a warm bed in the morning, he leapt off the subdued train and landed on the gravity dust line. At least, he would have if it did not have the unfortunate effect of distorting his gravity from 'staight down' to 'straight off'. He was sent sprawling over and off the track into the snowbank. He'd not concerned himself about its depth, having planned to just walk back along the track until he could stow himself a ride on the other half of the train, so found himself surprised as he was immediately buried and tumbling down the slope into the woods. He clawed at the ground for purchase, but, finding none, was forced to accept being turned into the catalyst of a faunus-formed avalanche. After a few minutes he managed to dig himself out of the snow, gasping for air and channelling his aura into Wilt for snow-melting heat.

"Fucking trains!"

He worked his way back up to the track over the course of another minute, the snowflakes melting on his forehead and running down in rivulets to his chin. His entire body was getting damp from snow melt and sweat, but he managed to eventually get back onto the humming gravity dust track where the snow was significantly shallower.

"Where is the other train?" He asked nobody. "It wasn't this far behind us and shouldn't have slowed down for a few more klicks." _Even buried in snow, I would have felt it passing by._ He peered down the line. Hard to see through the snow. "Well, I guess I'd better go see what is going on." He began to trudge along the rail, finding an excess of time that was easily put to use growing increasingly upset about how the day had gone so badly so quickly. He used his blindfold to wipe the perspiration and snow off of his cheeks, then put it back on to shield his eye from the light reflecting off the snowy seasonal setting.

~J~

After fifteen minutes or so, he'd shimmied the blindfold down to his neck to function as a makeshift neck-scarf; the encroaching snowclouds and his gradual acclimation were making the brightness less painful, anyways. He shivered a little. He wasn't actually dressed for a hike in these conditions, but he still had aura. Wilt was practically made of dust. It wouldn't take too much of it to keep him warm enough. _I hope I don't get_ _frostbite, _he thought sarcastically, _I could end up losing a fingernail_. He kept marching along the track, frustrated at how long the trip was taking. How long had he been greyed out, whatever 'that' had been? Where was the other half of the train?

Where was Blake?

He pulled out Wilt and accessed his scroll. He opened up the journal file and typed. ~Train issues. Backtracking to find the half Blake was on. Will my finger heal if I merge? I saw a Mistral newspaper's headline regarding my previous train ride. I might not be dressed for this hike but at least I'm not dressed as a lady.~ He wasn't sure if it would matter in the long run, but he still wanted some answers and well-earned laughter when this was all over. He finished the entry, then turned off the scroll. He wasn't sure how long he'd be out here, and the scroll was really only useful as a journal, a timepiece, and an aura-meter. He would have to conserve its power reserves for now.

"Hello!"

A voice sounded from the distance. Bedlam squinted and regarded, with some astonishment, the figure of the errant huntsman Dee shuffling along through the snow.

"Hey! Up there! Were you on the other part of the train?" Dee shouted. "I'm Dee! The huntsman for the Argus Limited! I got thrown off and made it to the wreckage, but a lot of the cars were missing. What happened?"

Bedlam looked back and forth down the track. Nothing else in sight.

"Why are you walking through the snow?"

"It's not that deep and I heard that unshielded over-exposure to gravity dust makes you impotent!"

Bedlam looked at the gravity dust line beside him. _That's an old wives' tale... isn't it? Dust isn't harmful. Unless it explodes or something._ Of course, that is what the SDC had told him and his fellow indentured servants in the mines. It would be just like them to lie, as humans are wont to do. "It's a lot easier to walk through the train's wake up here."

Dee seemed to accept the truth in that, and began trudging his way up the slope while Bedlam watched the spectacle. It was mildly amusing to watch the human slip and scramble up to the tracks. As he crested the drift and rolled onto the track, Bedlam realized he had been talking the entire time. Muttering would be a better description, since even with his faunus hearing Bedlam hadn't picked up on it over the noise of the growing blizzard.

"-distance back that way, some provisions but not many. The girls took what they could carry away from the wreckage, but for some reason headed into the wilderness instead of doing the smart thing and following the tracks like I did."

_Something about Blake!_

"What? They went into the woods?" Bedlam asked, annoyed at having been proven right. It would seem like Blake had decided to try to lose him, just as he had suspected her purpose in ditching his half of the train was. "Why would they do that?" He asked even though he strongly suspected Blake was the reason.

"Anyone on the train after our last stop was heading to Argus; I guess they thought that following the coastal route would be too long so they would have an easier time of it by cutting through the hinterlands. It is a shorter trip, distance-wise, but it would be so easy to get lost if unfamiliar with the territory. I decided to not join them and come this way because my partner Dudley would expect me to, he might even have slowed down the rest of the train so that I can catch back up."

"Didn't you get carried away by the grimm?" Bedlam reminded the man. "I don't think anyone thought you had survived, and it isn't like your aura was in range of his scroll out in the wilderness like this." Individual scrolls' range was scarcely more than the length of the Argus Limited, after all.

"My boy wouldn't give up on me so quickly, we've been through too much together. We're going to be the greatest huntsmen this Kingdom has ever seen! This is just a minor setback, soon we'll be laughing about it in a warm inn. Ah, I can already taste the steak and mashed potatoes I'll order..."

_Gross_, Bedlam involuntarily twitched at the man's appetite. "You said you parted ways with the huntresses? What else did you see them doing? One of them was a black-haired faunus, cat ears?"

Dee frowned. "I never said they were... wait, I know you!"

"Yes, I was travelling with the elderly lady at the rear of the train. Sorry you couldn't get a free jelly tart, but that's life." Bedlam said through gritted teeth. Now wasn't the time to worry about that nonsense, he needed to know more about Blake! "What else did they do? Did you hear them say anything else? Did the black-haired girl say anything about a plan?"

"No."

"You didn't hear anything at all?"

"No, I mean - 'no', that's not how I know you. I know you from a poster. You're Adam-Fucking-Taurus, Mistral's most-wanted! You've got the chin, the red hair, and I'd bet those points up through your hood are your signature faunus trait. Oh man, I'm going to be a fucking legend! When Dud finds out I took you down without him, he's going to be so-_ooo_ jealous. Oh man, when I tell chicks about this, there's not going to be a dry piece of underwear for a city block!" The moron's face contorted into a goofy, ridiculous grin as he fell into his lurid fantasies.

Bedlam pulled back his hood, revealing his horns for the huntsman to see - not that he actually looked, he seemed to be acting out a scene where he was kissing some overweight barmaid he fancied. "You're right. You managed to see through my disguise." _I guess getting wet with snow made it a bit easier to see my horns, and my moist hair hanging down certainly makes it that much more visible to the human eye._ "However, you forgot one thing."

"Nuh-uh!" Dee brandished his electric mace, which began spinning on its axle. "Yeah, this is going to be sweet." _Well, maybe he didn't forget that he hasn't caught me yet..._

Wilt flashed out of its sheath and met the mace in between them, sparks of electricity and fire shooting out as they clashed.

_...But I think he has forgotten why I'm Mistral's_ _most-wanted_.

"You can't beat me, Taurus. You had a good run-"

Their weapons met again, Dee attempting to put his entire body's weight behind his blow.

"-fighting civilians, women, children, _Vale_ _folk,_ and the SDC!"

"I never fought children," Bedlam argued as he parried another swing, "where did you hear that?"

"I heard you killed a lot of minors!"

Bedlam took a couple steps back, disengaging from the skirmish for a moment. "Miners, you idiot. Miners. Like what you would find in a mine. As run by the SDC. Human idiot."_  
_

Dee rushed forwards to keep Bedlam in range of his humming mace. "Oh, that makes a lot of sense actually. I mean, who goes around fighting little kids? What a dumb thing to do. But you're just a dumb animal, so I thought it was true."

"Animal?" Bedlam felt the blood rush to his face. "Animal! I'll show you who's an _animal!_ You'll beg me to end your life, in the name of mercy, like a sick cur!"

Bedlam rushed forward, unleashing a flurry of quick, precise strikes on Dee, gouging deep into his aura reserves and sending him reeling backwards. The blistering heat from Wilt turned the flanking snowbanks to mush, the water splashing down onto the track and then floating up where it met the influence of the gravity dust line, filling the air with an array of sprayed water droplets floating in contrast to gravity as the influence of the dust remained on them.

"I don't think anyone will mind if I haul your corpse into town a bit worse for wear; tenderized steak is always easier to chew!" Dee threw his mace around in large, swooping figure-eight strikes, which Bedlam dodged over and under. The spinning-mace sputtered and sparked as it weaved through the mist.

"You're weapon is garbage, you can't even hit me! I guess your ability to afford food was as good as your ability to afford decent equipment." Bedlam laughed, taking a certain amount of joy in taunting his foe, retaliation for the puns Dee was making about his faunus traits. Huntsmen really only cared about a few things, as a general rule: their family, their body, and their beloved weapons. "Tell me what Blake and her friends said, and maybe I'll leave what's left of you on the track for your partner to collect."

"You're just like Dudley: always thinking he's better than me with his fancy gun that he got with his inheritance. You think you're a match for me? Like I was saying, you've had a good run at being Mistral's resident bad boy, but now you're in for some serious comeuppance. I was trained at _Haven_, you stupid cow, the best school on Remnant. We tear little shits like you apart in first year. You're practically an initiation challenge for guys at Haven!"

"Funny, the way I've heard it, older guys at Haven are an initiation challenge for guys at Haven." Bedlam bantered. "When you say Dudley is your partner, did that love blossom on your first night together in Haven's remedial class or do you have to pay him to touch you?"

It was Dee's turn to fume. "We're not _that_ kind of partner, you crud licking lump! Oh, you're just begging to get what's coming to you now. I'm going to relish turning you into another count on my tally of victories." Dee's stance became reckless as he threw all his energy into his attacks, his renewed rage putting Bedlam on the defensive, blocking blow after blow with the glowing red blade of Wilt.

"Seriously, tell me what you know about Blake, right now, and this can end relatively peacefully. If the information is to my liking." He darted backwards to get some distance while Dee recovered his strength after his furious assault. Now out of reach of the mace, he pulled Blush off his hip and aimed it at Dee. "You might handle your mace well enough, but unlike your partner you don't have a _gun_. I do. Start talking."

Dee made an exaggerated face of terror. "Oh no! He's got a gun! What ever will I do? I've never had to deal with someone with a _gun_ before. Oh, woe is me! Alas! Alack! Is this the end for Dee?" He laughed in an exaggerated manner for a moment, then vanished.

_Great, a semblance. Did he disappear or teleport? Always hard to tell. _It was why one rarely wanted to fight someone with a semblance without knowing what that semblance was. "Fatherfu-" Bedlam began, then took a direct hit to his face as Dee's invisible weapon struck him.

"Yeah, I can hit you now, can't I? Let's see Dudley do _that_ with Blunder Bus!" Dee crowed triumphantly.

_Invisibility, probably. _Bedlam fell into the slushy snowbank. He grunted in pain, estimating that the hit had cost him a solid chunk of his aura. "I wonder, though, do you still make footprints?" He stepped deeper into the snow, towards the cliff along which the tracks ran.

No answer.

Bedlam was not certain about the man's semblance yet, but hoped his guess was right. He was certain that he didn't really want to take another blow to his head, if for no other reasons than _'it hurts a lot'_ and _'Braze and Dom might need the aura, too, wherever they are'_. "Looks like you're trapped on the tracks, then." Bedlam exhaled a long breath. "So, your semblance lets you turn invisible? That must have been fun in a co-ed dormitory. No wonder you didn't do well in school. Probably too busy abusing it for your own human perversity than spending time learning. For instance, do you even know that your semblance ability runs off your aura reserves?"

Still no answer.

"I wonder how long you can run that for without burning through all your aura?"

Dee reappeared on the other side of the tracks, which Bedlam rewarded by firing at him with Blush. The shot was absorbed by the huntsman's aura, but he still lurched back from the momentum and fell gracelessly down the slope. Bedlam felt himself relax a little. It was good to know that the semblance was just invisibility, instead of something else that would have let him move about undetectable even to honed faunus senses, like intangibility or something. He walked back onto the tracks and peered down the hill, where he saw Dee clambering out of his own little avalanche of snow and slush.

"So you can either be invisible, be shot, or be useful." Bedlam called out while smiling. "What's it gonna be? Tell me what you saw at the other half of the train, the wreck."

Dee seemed to undergo a rapid process of thought, self-evaluation about his chosen weapon's clear ranged inadequacy, intestinal distress, and then realization that his semblance was completely useless in his current circumstances. It wasn't like he could block gunfire just by spinning his weapon around really fast or something stupid like that. "Fine! Don't shoot, don't shoot. We can talk. I can tell you what I saw..."

"See? Not so hard." _Humans should _serve _the faunus._ "So, what did you see?"

"When I got there, the girls were all gathering up spilled supplies from the train. The track was busted up and the cars had flown off into the ravine like I did." Dee began his slow, careful ascent back up the slope, stopping periodically to brush snow off of his clothes. Bedlam kept Blush trained on his target, but didn't bother taking a shot while the man was cooperating.

"How did you survive that, yourself, by the way?"

"Idiot." He gestured to himself. "Huntsman. I've got a landing strategy."

"Was that strategy something along the lines of 'landing on the most useless part of my body so as to cushion my arms, legs, and torso?' I feel like it was." Bedlam said with the appropriate amount of snark for the insult to gain some traction in the simpleton's mind.

"I don't _have _to tell you what I saw, Taurus!" Dee complained vehemently.

Bedlam tapped Blush loudly with the blade of Wilt, the echo of metal on metal ringing down to the human. "Yes, yes you do. It's not like you can get away through the snow, not from me, even if you tried to run._"_

Dee bit his lip nervously, his eyes searching all over Bedlam before his stubborn pride gave way to cowardly reason. "They were all upset at someone for not telling them something about a relic, saying that it attracts the monsters. They were all yelling at a little boy about him lying to them all, which was understandable, but then the little boy was yelling at himself about lying to them, too, which was odd." He started working his way up the slope again.

_Ah, so the girls got a taste of what I got at the throne room._

"Then the boy started talking trash about Headmaster Lionheart, so maybe he deserves those girls ganging up on him."

Bedlam smiled a little at that.

"Apparently the little boy has some really weird trust issues. Also, he talks like he's in charge, even though he's clearly the youngest of them? Then they started arguing about some blue glowing lamp thing that the red-cloaked girl held... the little guy wanted it, but she seemed hesitant to give it to him. Definitely some internal group dynamic issues there. Not like what you'd see with kids trained at a proper academy, like Haven."

_Haven's relic_. Ruby clearly had it, which made sense: she was the team leader. A human appointed by another human, despite Blake clearly being a more capable candidate for the role.

"Then the boy seemed to have a seizure and yelled out 'he's trying to stop you' or something, then said something about a girl named Ginny or something. Then they seemed to all get _really_ angry, started yelling about spoiled salami and how their lives were chalk-full of lies. Then the old guy who was with them punched the little boy, something about his life decisions to be a huntsman? Then the old lady convinced everyone that they had to find shelter and said that there looked to be a trail. So, rather than taking shelter in the wreckage and waiting for a rescue-salvage crew, they all headed inland. Into the storm. I figured I'd follow the tracks to find Dudley, after stuffing my pockets with what food I could scrounge from the staff car and the dust the others didn't take."

"Wait, so Qrow hits a minor and it's fine, but I'm an animal because you think I'd do the same?"

"No, the dust crystals were all from the trainwreck, not a mine."

Bedlam had to stop himself from shaking his head in despair at the man's stupidity. "Not miner, minor. A child. Like what you said earlier."

"Oh, right." Dee reflected on that as he made it back up to the gravity-dust track. "The kid seemed like he'd pissed everyone else off, so maybe the old guy was his father, just disciplining him? You know, making sure the boy grows up right and all that."

Bedlam considered his own upbringing, the constant beatings he received from SDC company men. "I didn't know my father..."

"And just look how you turned out! Killing folks, blowing up stuff, jaywalking, robbing and stealing as you like; there's no way your parents would be proud of what's become of _you_."

"I didn't ask to be this way! What I am, humanity is responsible for turning me into! Do you think I wanted to spend my entire life fighting? Killing? No! But I can't live in a fantasy... and I can't let you live on my tail with an invisibility semblance and a desire to be responsible for killing me. So this is just how things are, rather than how they should be."

"Are you even proud of _yourself_?" Dee asked, holding his weapon steadily between them in order to deflect any shots from Blush. "It doesn't matter, you've turned yourself into a monster..."

Bedlam took a deep breath, exhaled, and increased his grip on his own weapons. "So the old lady I was with on the train was with them?"

"Yeah. She seemed pretty smart. Unlike you."

"I'm a deal smarter than you," Bedlam said with a smile. "You're still on a fast-track to be a corpse."

Dee shook his head. "Nuh-uh, buddy. See, I actually do happen to know a bit about semblances and aura. It's one of the things they teach at Haven, Remnant's premiere school for aspiring huntsmen and huntresses. Just like you said: my invisibility would drain my aura. But so does your semblance, and while I've been throwing all this useless plot exposition your way, whatever semblance you've got going has been cooking."

Bedlam turned his gaze from his opponent to the ground around himself. A great swath of area around him was completely melted, the snow having sloshed away to reveal the yellowed grass beneath. He had ensnared himself in an area preferential for Dee's advantage. _Moonslice!_ He'd blocked Dee's attacks, and now Wilt was literally melting the snow around him with the charged energy.

Dee vanished, taking advantage of the fact that there was no snow left to reveal his footprints.

"You're stupider than I thought," Bedlam sneered as he slid his blindfold up his neck to cover his eyes, letting what aura he had left focus on amplifying his other phenomenal senses.

He heard the rustle of pine needles in the trees.

He felt the heat of the sun against his face.

He smelled his sweat before it was carried away by the wilderness breeze.

He heard the soggy squish of cloth as Dee flexed his arm. Bedlam raised Wilt and blocked the blow from his invisible - but still audible - assailant. "Don't remember me as well as you should have from the train, I suppose."

He blocked another invisible blow and leapt backwards, landing knee deep in snow.

"I was wearing a blindfold, dimwit," Bedlam raised Blush and pointed it at what, to any visual observer, was empty space. "I don't need my eye to know where your heart is."

Dee didn't have anything to respond with to that, but Blush did.

Blush's retort echoed through the woods, a single gunshot; a moment later an empty human-shaped depression appeared in the snow. Dee's aura - and his semblance - sputtered and broke, revealing the huntsman clutching fruitlessly at the hole blasted through his windpipe. His body gushed blood into the pristine white snowbanks as his limbs twitched, as his eyelids went wide in disbelief.

Bedlam charged forward and drove Wilt into Dee's chest - through the man's wildly thumping heart - and unleashed the full fury of Moonslice, definitively ending his miserable existence as his torso burst asunder. Gore splattered across Bedlam's front; some even hit the gravity dust line and rebounded to splash onto his back.

"Do you know where my heart is, I wonder?" Bedlam whispered into the ear of the mutilated corpse as he rifled through the man's clothes for anything valuable: lien, dust, food. He found a few granola bars and a trio of yellow dust crystals, one of which was in the man's useless armament. "She can't be far. And if she is travelling with Maria, she won't be moving fast. Thank you, Dee. You really did make my experience aboard the Argus Limited a positive one. I'll recommend the line to all my friends. Ten out of ten service."

Bedlam continued down along the tracks until he reached the wreckage, eating one of the granola bars as he went. Deep footprints in the snow leading into the woods towards a faint trail revealed the passage of his quarry; from what he could piece together, one of the girls was pulling Maria on a narrow vehicle or treaded toboggan. They had spent some time at the crash site, evidently gathering what they could, before pressing on.

Every advantage was his, save their meagre headstart: he was alone, he was unburdened by possessions, he was driven to pursue them while they would be stumbling around unknown territory. He put on a thin smile and continued his hunt.

~J~

**DOMINIC**

The harbour bustled with activity as people hurried to and fro. _His_ people. Faunus, their mood one of disgustingly optimistic hope. Porters and passengers mixing together as everyone save those few observers laboured to get every last bit of transportable goods onto the ships.

_Sort of a pathetic effort,_ Dominic chided as he watched the effort. What little the faunus people of Mistral possessed were worn-down hunks of junk (at best), their only value in whatever sentiment their owners attached to them. In a way, it was a metaphor for the faunus themselves from the human elites' perspective. _They treated us like we were worthless, too, our value only in the service of our purpose until we gained... sentimental value after fighting side-by-side with weaker human soldiers in the Great War._ The Great War: when the fortunes of faunus had suddenly changed, and humanity had realized just how dangerous their sentient pets were. _Had always been_. In any case, Dominic found it unremarkable that the humans didn't intercede in the removal of so much physical property from their poorest community. Their ire seemed to be more suitably directed at the escape of their cheap labour pool; behind a line of armed human police, protesters shouted racial slurs and vitriolic hate at the faunus who had elected to leave for Menagerie with Belladonna. Belladonna himself moved between the largest ship and the line of police to - if Dominic were to wager a guess - occasionally thank the armed humans for keeping the peace.

It was rather irritating to watch for Dominic. He knew Ghira could single-handedly tear the protesters apart. Instead, he had decided that peace and politicking was preferable to aggression and action. On the plus side, Ghira wandering about like that made him an easy target for snipers. Maybe Dominic's little schism issue would see itself solved by some enterprising racist with a scope?

Dominic wouldn't have it so easy, of course. Things seemed predisposed lately to not go his way where the Belladonnas were involved.

Case in point: he glanced up at the rooftops and quickly spotted the unmistakable blonde tail of Wukong. The huntsman-in-training had his eyes strictly trained at the perimeter, keeping a keen watch out for anyone thinking about marring with bloodshed what was otherwise a tame occasion.

Dominic suddenly smiled as a thought occurred to him, and he ducked into a dark alley to parkour his way up to the roof underneath Sun. _A little payback for the other day..._

"Gah!" Sun shouted as Dominic slinked up behind him and patted him on the shoulder. "Wow! You scared me there! Dom! Wasn't expecting to see you here. Like, up here here, not here in general... how did you sneak up on me like that?"

"Seems like a busy day," Dominic said casually, ignoring the question as he moved to stand beside his monkey-traited peer. "I hear the faunus are, for the most part, heading to Menagerie. I can't say I blame them: Mistral is awful."

Sun nodded, "yeah, that's sort of why you're trying to leave, too?"

Dominic shrugged. "I think I've had enough of Mistral for a few decades. It's time for me to find something more my pace." _Something like a shred of loyalty and motivation among my trusted followers, for instance._ "Where are your teammates? On other rooftops?" Dominic peered around, but failed to spot any of them. Maybe they were just better at hiding?

"I'm on my own here today," Sun admitted. "I mean, obviously I'm not alone-alone: lotta faunus down there I'm pretty friendly with. The boys are off doing other stuff though. Sage and Scarlet got a gig to make some lien because Mistral - much like Vale - doesn't really have a communal sense of food and shelter going on. Make you pay for _everything_ around here. If you take so much as a banana they call you a thief! It's unreasonable. Aren't we all supposed to be on the same side?"

"Humans don't like sharing," Dominic said tersely. "They don't like a lot of things," he added, looking towards the line of protesters who were spiritedly chanting 'get back to work you lazy mutts, Menagerie's for lazy butts'.

Sun grimaced. "They're getting better, though."

"I heard that this is all being kept sort of hush-hush from the public." Dominic said slowly, "that probably explains the smaller-than-expected crowd over there."

"You're not wrong. We had to do it this way, though. Afterwards, everyone will be happier and it avoids a tense showdown and chances for violence on both sides."

"Easier to beg forgiveness-" Dominic began.

"-than to ask permission," Sun finished. "See? You see. It's cool, it's all cool."

_No wonder he and Blake got along so well_, Dominic considered. Neither was one to share their plans before enacting them, it seems, much to his constant chagrin.

They watched the crowd for a while in silence.

"Still set on Vale?" Sun asked. "There's still room aboard a few of those ships, I hear."

"I'm not sure Menagerie is my sort of place, not my sort of pace."

"How did you hear about this happening?" Sun asked.

Dominic spent a moment to think about his answer. The news of the exodus was probably relatively nonexistent outside the faunus population, and it wasn't like his cover story had included a means to have heard about it from anything beyond having wandered through the deserted neighbourhood. Sun probably knew that. Was he trying to gauge Dominic, or was it just an innocent question? Dominic felt like Sun had asked the question for a reason, since his true answer would tie in so closely with the vector of the conversation. _Sun doesn't have proof that I'm a faunus, yet._ It may have been heavily implied, but what fun was there in certainty when Dom could play a little with it?

"A friend in the faunus district mentioned it to me."

Sun grabbed his tail with his hand and held it up to his chest. "I mean, I don't hide what I am."

"Maybe it's just easier to be who you are when you're a huntsman, surrounded by surprisingly accepting humans. Maybe it's just not easy for the rest of them, hence this little venture of Ghira's."

Sun let go of his tail and nodded.

Both of the faunus gave a start as trumpets blared. They turned and saw that the Crown Prince had arrived to bid farewell to the Menagerians. _Menagerites_? Dominic realized he didn't know the proper term for them. _Mites?_ It was suitably diminutive. He settled on it, until he could figure out the proper term. The Crown Prince, surrounded by his heavily armed and armoured guards, made his way over to the ship ramp.

"You're right, though. Life's probably been easier for me than it has been for others." Sun said, taking a seat on the edge of the roof. Apparently now that the Prince was on the scene with his guards, he figured that the risk of snipers was mitigated. "Ghira has a harder time of it, for instance. Sorry for bringing that up."

Dominic ignored the apology, though. _Shit, I shouldn't call Ghira by his first name. The local news always calls him Chieftain Belladonna._ Damage control was necessary, a fast change of topic. "So, the others are working a paying gig? How much is that worth for the lot of you?"

"Hopefully enough to pay for a good room on our ship, whenever it floats into dock." He peered out at the ocean, as if the vessel would appear. It failed to answer his verbal summon, and the horizon was flat and boat-less. "It was a one-man gig, but Sage and Scarlet worked it together anyways for the same payout. Not like Scarlet had anything better to do in town, and I like having him have Sage's back. They're a solid duo, like me and Nep."

"Where _is_ your hydrophobic problem-child?" Dominic asked with a chuckle. "Still working on a way to get him to board the ship?"

"You say that like it would be an easy affair to convince him to come down to the docks with me like this. Nah, I didn't even bother because he said he had to deal with some boring family stuff. I thought his folks lived up north, but I guess he has some more family here in the city. He doesn't talk about his clan much." Sun shrugged it off. "I guess I'd be a hypocrite if that bothered me: I don't talk about my clan much, either."

"You have a clan?" Dominic momentarily imagined a bunch of people who looked eerily like Sun, stealing bananas by the bunch.

"Which I don't talk about much, either!" Sun repeated pointedly, letting Dominic get the hint.

They focused their attention on the activity around the ship. Ilia and Kali came out on deck and called to Ghira. The loading was finished now. Ghira and the Prince posed a few times for a camera crew, then shook hands. Ghira hustled back to the ship and the gangplank was raised.

"Well, I guess that's that." Sun said. "You want to get something to eat?"

"Another time. I've got to deliver something to an associate, figured I'd come watch this show before doing that." He patted the pocket of his trenchcoat, revealing the concealed camera bulge at his side. "When the ship comes, I'm sure we'll have lots of time for that sort of thing..."

"Okay, well, see you around!" He waved goodbye while he tilted his head to try to see - unsuccessfully - what was in the pocket

They parted ways, but Dom was not even down the fire escape ladder when his scroll began to buzz. He looked at the screen: _Neopolitan_. He suspected his clone was worried about what was taking him so long with the food or something trivial. He opened the message to read it, while trying to think of what sort of food to buy.

~Come see what I'm wearing!~

It seemed like Brazen had finally discovered that he had been bequeathed the ill-fitting outfit Dom had purchased for Bedlam. _He's probably pissy about it_. Dom slipped the scroll back into his pocket. _Maybe it would be better to let Brazen blow off that steam alone for a bit longer while I think of a proper apology for not mentioning Bedlam's theft earlier on. _He called up the ladder towards the roof, "hey Sun, I think I might have some extra time. What do you like eating?"

Sun's grinning face poked out over the corner of the roof. "Whatever you're buying, buddy!"

_Oh right, he's broke._

Fortunately, Dominic wasn't. "Let's go somewhere nice." He felt like celebrating Ghira's long-overdue retreat to his consolation continent.

~J~

**BEDLAM**

Bedlam retracted his arm through his sleeve into his chest. With his other arm he twisted the empty cloth appendage, forcing a stream of water to soak out and slop onto the snow at his feet. He was cold and wet. He forced his arm back into the sleeve and drew Wilt again, sending a trace amount of aura flowing through the blade. He hugged his warm weapon and looked skyward. As much as he had yearned for the surface as a boy, as a man he knew that the quickly setting sun would not do him any favours when it came to keeping warm. His fingertips were numbing. The blizzard was getting worse. He kept his blindfold over his face as much as possible, taking it off every few minutes just to make sure he was still following Blake's tracks. It was hard to tell if he was, the snow was getting deeper.

_Would she suddenly leave this trail?_ He wondered. She might, if she was trying to evade him.

He heard something in the distance. A scream? He stopped still and listened. There was no subsequent sound. Irregardless, he didn't like it. He was glad to have Wilt in his hand as he trudged further forward. He looked at the ground and at the trees. He wasn't even sure if he was still on the right path anymore. Or any path at all. He might just be wandering in circles through these trees now; they all looked the same. It was like he was in a maze of the damned things. He made a cut in one, just in case he _was_ going in circles, then moved quickly - but careful for danger - forward.

He came to a wooden fence and sheathed Wilt. With his free hand he examined the wood: it seemed old and weathered. Parts of it had fallen over and were covered in snow now, but it was better than trees. In the distance, through the storm, he saw the outline of buildings. _A better place to be than out here, certainly._ He thought. He might have to slaughter the inhabitants if they weren't faunus.

Maybe even if they were faunus... it wasn't like his hands were clean of his own people's blood anymore. He would do whatever he had to do to get at Blake, though.

Blake.

_What if she found this place first?_ It was an irritating thought. If she was already in there, with all of her precious human companions, it would not do for him to barge in. He moved closer to a nearby gap in the fence to get a better look. As he grew closer, his nose recognized the smell of smoke dispersing through the area. _Well, someone's alive in here._

He pondered what to do. He settled on scouting it out a bit, first. He had to know what he was getting himself into. He shivered and began to draw Wilt back out so that he could warm himself up again.

The falling snow cleared for a moment and he briefly saw into the nearest building. The blonde inhabitant seemed to see him, too, her eyes going wide with shock and raising her mechanical arm defensively. _Yang_. He sprang away, out of sight of the window, his questions about Blake answered. If Yang was there, so were the rest of them. _Unless they'd somehow gotten separated in the snow?_ He couldn't imagine them getting lost from one another that quickly, which meant Yang would certainly soon tell Blake she had seen him out here.

He looked towards the forest. He could flee, set up some traps or snares in the forest and wait for Blake to come for him. She would probably be able to convince Yang to accompany her in such a hunt - chopping off an arm tended to give people a lasting grudge. The humans would be weaker in the blizzard. They would probably argue it was safer for them to bunker down in the buildings.

He looked at the building. _This storm, for all my misgivings about it, for all its discomfort, is my shield_. He slid up to the side of the building, which seemed to be some sort of barn.

"Do you think Adam's still out there?" Yang's voice seeped through the thin barn wood walls, the poor craftsmanship of the building resulting in several gaping holes. Yang must have related what she had seen outside to the others.

_Of course I'm still out here, how would I have gotten inside so quickly?_ Bedlam thought.

Beloved Blake's voice replied, and Adam's grip on his sheathed sword intensified. "I dunno. If he went back to the White Fang there would have been serious consequences; but he never really liked people telling him what to do."

_You only ever told me to restrain myself, to act more like Sienna or, fates forbid, your pacifist father._ Adam Taurus was smart and clever, he knew what was best to do. He knew what was best for their cause, for their people. Maybe he hadn't known what to do when it came to Blake, but could he really be blamed for not liking it when she told him to not touch her? To not want to touch her? Even if he hadn't _liked_ her telling him what not to do, he had still respected her wishes. He had worked all the harder to prove himself to her, to make the world safer. To make their vision of a safe world for faunus happen. To make the world worthy of their love.

She continued, though. "Adam's strong, but his real power comes from control. He used to get in my head, make me feel small, but now I see he just wanted to pull me down to his size."

_Wait, is she insulting my... little Adam? Is she calling me too small for her? Did she not want to go further with our relationship because she thought I couldn't satisfy her? Or is she saying that she thought I only cared about her sexually?_ He fumed at the insinuation. Then he fumed at how she would even _know_ something like that about his body when _she_ was the one who insisted they keep their affection for one another non-physical as much as possible. It would be just like her to sneakily peep on him when her mercurial mood had decided to. Had she spied on him in the shower or something? It wasn't like White Fang camps had heated water; showers were cold when you were fighting for freedom!

He had only himself to blame. Letting her read all of those torrid romance novels with _unrealistic proportions_. She was just setting herself up for disappointment, he knew. _As if there is some magical hero who can make a woman convulse with delight with a mere touch! What a load of bullshit._ Blake had become a cautionary tale: the unavoidable result of a person too invested in fantasy rather than reality.

"If we ever see him again, I'll protect..." her words were muffled as the wind picked up.

_Strange_, Bedlam thought, his mind moving away from an ardent defence of his physique towards a critique of what he was listening into. The way she spoke about him, about the _possibility_ of seeing him again... did she not understand that Yang had just seen him outside? Was this some sort of ruse they were putting on, knowing that he could overhear them?

He pressed his ear to the wall, desperate to hear more words from Blake. Her sultry, velvety tone, the way she spoke to someone she trusted rather than to an opponent. He had missed that version of her voice. He was disappointed to hear no more from Blake; instead, all he heard was Yang loudly finishing their conversation. "We're fine. We can hook that flatbed up to Bumblebee in the morning. Should carry..." Her voice faded. He felt the wall shake slightly, the sound of the barn door opening on the far side.

Bedlam fell back to the line of trees, following the fence around the perimeter as the sky darkened. The blizzard continued to worsen; he didn't feel like Blake or Yang would be coming out looking for him, for whatever reason. He was in his element, despite the chill running through his entire body. He was a child of icy Solitas, right? He found a drainage gully that had once been fed by a sealed tunnel entrance. _Speaking of my element_, he thought wryly. There didn't seem like there was much to differentiate a sewer from a tunnel, a tunnel from a mine... Still, better to be dry and covered in a sewer than to be frozen dead out in the open like this, which is what he would be if he stayed out like this much longer. _I could just burn through Wilt_... but he didn't know if he would have the time to re-infuse his blade with dust at any point during his pursuit. So in the spirit of conserving his limited resources, he instead relied upon his superhuman strength, using his hands to pry open the tunnel entrance. He didn't bother wasting the time to question why someone would have boarded it up in the first place; he was far too tired and shivering in the storm, and what thoughts he had which did stray from his immediate concerns found themselves lingering on the question of _why would Yang not alert Blake to my arrival?_

The tunnels were cold, and damp, but at least the wind didn't nip at his exposed skin. There were wooden support beams that he could even climb up onto to get dry if he wanted, where he could curl up for a nap.

Overall, it seemed like a good place to get some much-needed sleep. Forcing himself to stay awake on the train for days had taken a toll, but it wasn't like he was going to trust some human he'd just met just because she seemed harmless. He could figure out what his next steps for his chase would be in the morning. It had been a long day and now he just felt tired.

* * *

Ahoy, ye scoundrel dogs! Life ashore be skewerin' all me scribblin' time, with hours of ten t' fifteen becomin' as common as the salt in the sea to the likes of this haggard soul. Whilst I plan t' plunder a twentieth chapter fer ye from these perilous depths afore the next moon, I be fearin' that there'll be ice in the ports when it sails in. Still yer roguish qualms awhile yet: when _'Hush n' Blush_' finally fires its literary broadside against ye, I'm fond yer ire fer that cliffhangin' scallywag what came afore this here chapter will be properly dealt with.  
As fer the chance of a chapter after that'n, well, the tides be a fickle thing and there be plenty of muck on the deck I be needin' to swab up.  
Don't talk like a landlubber if ye want ta keep yer limbs off the gangplank!  
~Jolly Jackie, the Rummy Writer

[Post-TLAPD Translation of that gibberish]

Real life taking its toll; 10-15 hour workdays becoming routine as conditions get worse. Hoping to post chapter #20 in late October/early November. It should appease those of you who disliked the previous cliffhanger chapter. After that, might spend some time polishing up earlier chapters, fixing minor inconsistencies, before posting chapter #21.  
Stay Safe and talk like a pirate,  
~J A


End file.
